The 14th Hunger Games: Abandon All Hope
by Dinashadow
Summary: This is a sequel to my last story. Thirteen years later, a new president has stepped in, and old faces are still recovering from their time in arena. Rebellion still brews in the air, but with the Gamemaker's promising the best Hunger Games yet, there seems to be no hope in overthrowing the Capitol. Rated T for violence and suggestive themes.
1. The Passing of Time

**A/N: I'm back already! I couldn't stay away, and I'm excited to start this! So for all the new readers: welcome! This is a sequel to my last SYOT. And to all my old readers thanks for returning :D. Most of my spots are gone, but there are still a few male and female spots left. I also need mentors. If you are interesting in submitting you'll find everything you need on my profile.**

**So this is just a little introduction and a look back on some characters from my last story. Huge thanks to retromother for writing the little cover letter below for her Gamemaker. She has also been extremely helpful in providing a few suggestions. If you have not read her story then GO there after you read this. **

_President Scarlett Snow_

_Dear sir/madam_

_Please find attached my CV. I wish to apply for the game maker vacancy advertised in Capitol Today. Whilst I have no prior experience, my background should place me in good stead. I come from a long line of Panam-Italians. My family escaped Italy during the Fifth Euro War. We were lucky, given that Italy is no more. I am a great lover of the Capitol, however upon reading my family history I realise that Capitol could better control the districts if it took lesson from the old world religion Catholicism._

_My proposal is to introduce the seven deadly sins and the seven holy virtues to our districts by way of the hunger games. Reward virtue, but more importantly punish sin. I would love to discuss my ideas with you in person._

_Regards,_

_Ricardo Matelli_

"Why have you brought me this, Lewis?" I snap.

"Miss Snow, we have been looking for another Gamemaker for the past few months."

"That is not my problem Lewis!" I toss the papers back to him. "I hired you for one reason and one reason only and that was to manage everything that I do not have the time and patience for."

"I apologize Miss Snow…"

"Do not apologize Lewis, go out there and find the Gamemaker if you think this... Ricardo Matelli is the one, then hire him. If he ruins this year's games, it'll be on your head."

Before Lewis can answer me I catch the sight of a small boy standing in the doorframe.

"Mommy, will you please play with me?" The boy's silly requests annoy me to no end. What is he doing here? He's supposed to be with the Nanny.

"Coriolanus, you know you are not supposed to be here. Lewis, you are dismissed, please take the little parasite with you."

Lewis grabs his hand and leads him out the door, closing it behind him, and finally I have some peace and quiet. I swear these presidential duties are going to give me grey hair, but it was all worth it, and now that I have little Cori, I will be sure to keep the Snow legacy going.

_Bullet "Noah" Daniels_

"Mr. Daniels, it's good to see you today," I've barely managed to shrug my jacket off when always eager Estelle greets me.

"Estelle, I've told you to call me Noah."

"Okay I'll try… Noah," she scrunches her face as though she just ate something sour. "It doesn't sound right. I'll stick to Mr. Daniels."

"Alright then Estelle. Have you done your training today?"

"Of course. Why would you even ask?"

"I don't know what came over me," I say sarcastically. Estelle is certainly skilled. She's definitely at the top of possible volunteers this year, and she's compliant. I will choose her over other possible candidates just for that simple fact.

Since the day I became mentor I've establish the District 2 training academy. A lot of kids are sent here, not just to train for the games, but also when their parents believe they need to be whipped into shape. I focus on those who make an impression and this the games is some kind of honor. In the past thirteen years I've brought back two other victors. It doesn't seem like a lot, but it's impressive for a district, as some have been unable to bring a single victor back yet.

Despite newer victors coming in from District 2, I have refused to relinquish my mentor position. This has basically become my life. I've thrown heart and soul into making District 2 one to be proud of. However, honor is not my goal, my goal is to occupy my mind and forget, since moving on has been eliminated as a possible option long ago.

I look back at Estelle who stands with her arms crossed examining her competition. Tomorrow she will go against other girls who have shown promising potential, but she's the favorite to win. Estelle is just the tribute I need. She wants to volunteer. She wants to go into the games. Whoever's name is drawn at the upcoming Reaping will not have to go into the Hunger Games, because there are volunteers like Estelle who see it as a privilege, and as mentor I will do anything in my power to bring one of my tributes back home.

"Well let's see what you got," I tell her and she picks up her set of knives and works her way over to the dummies. She takes a deep breath, and swings her arm back. Then in a flashing moment she throws one knife after another with deadly accuracy. Each one slices through the air and hits the target as it should.

I watch her throw and suddenly my feeble mind turns one of the dummies turns into Jade, another turns into Aeron, and I watch as the knife slices through their skin.

"That's enough," I call to her. "I need a break," and I leave the center for some fresh air.

_Athea DiMae_

I am cold; snow blows into my shelter and sends shivers up my backbone. I try to curl up into myself, but I am unable to generate any more body heat.

"Athea?" A weak voice calls to me, and I instinctively move towards it.

"Yes, I'm here."

I squint my eyes to make out anything in the darkness. That's when I see Lucian, pale-faced and bloody.

"Lucian!" I scream, and I shake awake.

The first thing I notice is that the other side of the bed is cold. I immediately think the worse, and then realize where I am. I am not 15 year old Athea in the Hunger Games. I am 28 and a citizen of District 13. I rise from my sleep and patter into the living room. It's empty.

I sigh with discontent. Working late again I guess, and so I go through my 'wake up in the middle of night' routine.

I open to the first door of the bedroom as quietly as I can, one bed, and one boy sleeping soundly. I close it and move on to the next room; two beds and two girls also sleeping soundly. Three children that will never have to wake up with dreams like mine. I am so blessed… but at the same time I yearn for home.

I crawl into the empty bed, plagued by thoughts of my brother and my old best friend who are at home, in District 3. Little Micah is not so little anymore, though I haven't seen him since I said good-bye on Reaping day. He's 24 years old and I have no idea if I have any nieces or nephews. Last I spoke to him was four years ago, and that was by luck.

Since I was transported here, I've had few attempts to reach either him or Fahrin. It takes correct timing, and usually the Hunger Games being around to be able to make a simple phone call. The Hunger Games keeps the Capitol busy enough that we can make a call without them tracing it, any other time it's not worth it.

I wanted them to bring Micah here, but it's just too far. Thousands of miles separate us, but I'd give anything to see him again.

Perhaps my day will come, but with the Hunger Games looming over the nation of Panem I might be able to make at least a phone call. Hopefully this year is my lucky year.

**A/N: To reiterate, if you'd like to be apart of this SYOT go to my profile. PM me anything that has to do with this and any questions you have. The review box is to review this chapter, not to ask questions and send tribute forms. I already had a mess of having my last story deleted and I don't want to deal with it again. **

**Okay, that is all. Have a wonderful Thursday my lovelies. :)**

**-Kayla**


	2. You Will Create A Family Legacy

**A/N: Spots are filled! First reaping chapter is done! Tribute descriptions are on my profile! This is for Districts 1, 2, and 4. These six are a lovely batch. **

**Enjoy :D Make sure you read the note at the bottom, okay? Okay!**

_Blush Beaumont (District 1)_

"Blush!" The screaming cries of the most hated woman ever echo through the hallways and make their way into my not-so-wiling ears.

I close my book calmly and rise to my feet.

"Blush! Get out here right now!" She shrieks. How fortunate that I get to live in the same house with such a woman.

"Coming Shimmer," I keep my voice steady.

When I reach her she jams the phone in my hand.

"It's your father," she scolds, "you know better than to keep him waiting!"

I take the phone from her hand and present to her an award-winning smile.

"I'm sorry… mother," my words drip with sarcasm.

"Hello father," and I turn and walk away before she can yell her pretty little blonde head off. Shimmer is not my mother, technically she's my 'step-mother', but she is so far from the word mother that I could never call her so. Instead Shimmer is a trophy; meant to be shown off, and a big waste of my father's money might I add.

"Blush, I need you to come down here right now." He commands. His voice is stern and I know better than to question.

"Yes Father," and he hangs up on me.

My father is the head of District 1's underground crime network. We deal with all things illegal; prostitution, drug dealings, and the ever-so-popular loansharking. Meanwhile my father deems me his "right hand girl" and sends me out to do the dirty work. Over the years I have become desensitized to brutality and murder, following commands like a robot.

I approach the door to 'Headquarters', which is just an old abandoned building back in a shady alleyway, anything to keep Peacekeepers away though. Upon entering I smell the familiarity of smoke, and men who wear too much cologne.

As I open the door to his room, and catch sight of him, my intuition tells me automatically that he is not happy. This is not the face of him sending me on a job, it's the face of somebody who is angry, and with my father the way he is, making him angry never brings pleasant outcomes.

"Would you like to tell me why you're here?" He raises his eyebrows at me and expects me to know. I have a bad feeling I know what this is about, but I don't want to shoot myself in the foot.

"I don't know.." I stumble over my words. My father is the only person on the face on this planet who can make me lose my cool.

"Don't play ignorant with me Blush. I was told from a source that you intend on volunteering for the Hunger Games tomorrow," he slams his fist hard on the table in front of him, causing a few things to fall over and clatter to the floor. "Why would you want to do such a thing? Have I not provided you with enough? I've given you everything you have ever asked for, and in return all I ask that you take over my position when I'm gone."

"I know," I shuffle nervously on my feet. I cannot tell my father the real reason I want to volunteer, especially under his hawk-like stare.

"So… tell me this isn't true. Tell me the person who came to me about this was lying." He hisses.

I don't know who possibly would have told him. I've been keeping this a secret, and I just made the decision a few weeks ago. But who would dare tell my father such a thing as a lie?

With all the courage I can muster, I swallow down the lump in my throat, and go against everything I've known to do.

"It's not true," I lie.

My father rises from his chair and approaches me. His stature towers over me, but I know how to hold my cool. He's the one who trained me how. He puts his hand under my chin and forcibly tilts my head back so my eyes meet his.

"Are you sure?" He asks again.

"I'm sure."

He releases me immediately, a sly smile forming on his face.

He believes me, and has good reason to. Nobody lies, or disobeys Onxy Beaumont, especially not his precious Blush.

Blush, who has murdered countless others under her father's order, and that's just the beginning of what I've done on his orders.

I exit my father's office and give myself a chance to take a breath. It is then that I realize that my father may have raised me to deceive a little to well. At one point I would have followed any of my father's orders without question. I am aware of how immoral my actions have been, but family loyalty has always trumped any value system I may have formed if I would have had the chance. I, however, have a breaking point. A breaking point that has made me understand what I truly am to my father: nothing but a tool of his creation to be used for his purposes.

By volunteering for the Games, I will finally be able to get away from this, and even if I die I will finally be able to have control over my own destiny.

I am about to leave the building when I spot him. He doesn't see me, but I can pick him out from the crowd even when his back is turned. His body embodies the hours of time he's spent at the training center, with muscular physique, and various scars, most prominently the one that runs down the left side of his face.

Glisten Orton brings back many feelings, most of them unwelcomed. I cannot bear to be here any longer. I turn away from him, ready to reach for the door, but at that moment he happens to rotate his glance, and his blue eyes catch me.

I hold his gaze because breaking eye contact may make me seem weak. His face doesn't change, but his eyes narrow ever so slightly, and I break his steady watch and exit through the door.

This day has provided me with too much emotional stimulus. I am not used to feeling this way, first my father, and now seeing Glisten. I will not let it waver me, and decide to head to the dance studio to burn off my frustrations.

_Memor Cross (District 2)_

"You sure about this?"

I look up to my soon-to-be mentor. It seems like he's doubting my abilities, though I guess I can't blame him. My father has been training me on his own, not wanting me to mingle with other hopeful tributes. Earlier today I had participated in the tournament that decides the volunteer and emerged victor. It's just the first step to winning the games. I am one victory away from avenging my late sister and proving my worth to my family.

"Why wouldn't I be? I won," I answer back.

Noah frowns and shakes his head.

"I am not talking about your capabilities. I know you're highly proficient in your skills, but is this something you want to do?"

I stare at Noah for a long time because I have no answered formed. When it came to the Games it was never about what I wanted, it was about what I had to do. Noah senses my hesitation immediately and places his hand on my shoulder.

"Memor, I have sent through many volunteers; a few have made it back, but most haven't. The worse thing is when you see a volunteer who thinks that they have to do this. I need to tell you that if this isn't what you want, then you can back out before the reaping. You have that ability, and it's something a lot of other people won't have. Don't take it for granted."

That's a laugh. If I came home tomorrow without volunteering, I'm sure my parent's would kick me out of the house and force me to live on the streets. I respect Noah, he was the first one to win it all, but he doesn't understand this situation. Besides, I've been training for this moment since Krysta died. Why wouldn't I be ready?

"I want to do this."

Noah nods his head.

"Welcome to the team then. You and Estelle both look promising, so I'm honored to be your mentor. Now go on home. I'm going to close down."

"What?" I say shocked. "Aren't we going to train some more before tomorrow?"

"No, you should sleep. Estelle went home and you should too."

"But I need to…"

"There's nothing you can do tonight that'll help you any further. Go home Memor," he says sternly, and I have no choice but abide in his wishes.

I exit the training center, where just hours before I was crowned as the volunteer. My family will be proud, but my father would have expected nothing less from me. If I were to return home tonight I'm sure he'd clock me one for not staying all night to train.

So I end up on the doorstep of Miss Vivian Flores. I knock, and wait, and then I knock some more until she answers the door. She greets me with a flow of curse words.

"You know what time it is? And you're waking up my entire household?"

"I'm sorry baby."

My words are met with a slap across my face. Talk about being smooth.

"What was that for?"

"Hush! Don't you dare call me baby, I heard about you and Anita. How dare crawl back to me?"

I scratch the back of my head and smile at her. So maybe I hang around the ladies a lot. She shouldn't assume that it means anything.

"Anita was nothing. I'm at your doorstep tonight, not hers! Besides we aren't technically together."

She sighs with frustration and moves aside, and I take that as her welcoming me into the house.

"Yeah, 'technically'. What are you doing here anyways?"

I spin around in excitement.

"I did it Viv! Tomorrow I'm volunteering for the Hunger Games!"

I pull her into a hug and lift her from the ground.

"Memor, stop!" She squeals, but then erupts into laughter.

I set her down, and she shakes her head disapprovingly.

"Your father will be proud."

"Yes, and when I come home I'm going to buy you a ring."

"Really Mem? You sure you don't want to buy it for your other lady friends?"

"No Vivian. You know I only have eyes for you," which makes her roll her eyes in return.

"So this could be your last night here then?" She asks, her voice suddenly taking on a serious tone.

"No, I'm going to be victor. I swear I will!"

"Okay, Memor." She puts her arms around me and I run my hands through her long hair. "Let's make it count, okay?" And I take that as cue to meet my lips with hers.

Thank you Noah for letting me leave early.

_James "Jet" Whitecove (District 4)_

"Jet, wake up! Wake up!"

A pillow slaps me in the face and I peel my eyes open. My little brother is besides himself, jumping on my bed.

"Caspian, please." I rub my eyes. I haven't been looking forward to this day. Reaping Day.

"It's Reaping Day!" Caspian lunges from the bed onto the floor and runs out the door in excitment.

My poor brain-washed brother. This is his first reaping ever, but he has nothing to worry about because even if his slip is pulled from the bowl, it won't matter because there are volunteers. This year that volunteer will be me.

My biggest reason for volunteering has nothing to do with my years of career training, or having fame or fortune, but instead it has to do with Caspian. If I don't win and keep our little home in victor's village, Caspian will undergo the same treatment I did from our wonderful father; years of pushing for the fame that my uncle achieved for us long ago.

My uncle was one of the first victors ever, but he died a few years ago. He allowed us to live in this not-so-little house with him, but my father did not get along well with him and my uncle was ready to kick him to the curb. That was a few weeks before he mysteriously died. Once both of my uncle's children hit 18 we will have to leave because my parents will no longer be their legal guardians. Cora, the oldest, has one year left, and Tuesday is only nine, but nine years will come quickly, and unless my father can churn out another victor he will have to leave the life of luxury to work for once in his goddamned life.

"Morning Jet," Cora yawns and takes a seat next to me at the table where our large breakfast is laid out. This isn't a reaping breakfast; it's an everyday breakfast. When you live in Victor's Village, you're basically living one step down from how they live at the Capitol. I guess I can't blame my father for wanting to stay, but he has seriously taken things to far to keep it.

"It's a big day for Jet," my father remarks.

Cora gives my father a critical look.

"Are you seriously going to make Jet go through with this?"

Cora doesn't like my father, she hates him more than I do, and swears to me that he murdered my uncle.

"Jet wants to do this," my father says nonchalantly while buttering his toast.

"Uhm," the answer is no. I absolutely do not want to do this, but there's nothing I can do about it now. This is what Leo Whitecove wants Jet to do. "I've been training for this my whole life, so I do," I try to lie but it doesn't sound convincing.

"I'm sure about that," Cora mumbles.

My father is about to make a comment when a loud crash directs his attention. I'm guessing it's Caspian and Tuesday, and they are going to get themselves in trouble if they don't quiet down.

"Cas! Tuesday! Knock that ruckus off and get out here and eat!" My father's voice is commanding enough that it can keep two wild children obedient. It's a voice I've known to shrink away from whenever possible. The two emerge from the other room looking scared. My father's anger sometimes knows no bounds, but it's Reaping Day, and his son is going to volunteer, so they're off the hook for now.

"You don't want to do this, do you?" Cora asks later on our way to school when my father is far from earshot. She grasps Tuesday's hand, while Caspian bounds ahead. Unlike me, Caspian has always exuberated confidence even though he is only 12. When I was his age I was insecure about myself and terribly afraid of everything, especially my dad. I guess training has improved that aspect of me, but confidence has never come naturally.

I shake my head to answer Cora's question and she sighs with frustration.

"Don't try to stop me," I tell her.

"I'm not, but I can't believe you're doing this for your father. Just for a stupid house in Victor's Village. Honestly, I wouldn't mind living outside in the district. I always receive the dirtiest looks from everyone in my class just because they have jealousy issues. Think about having your own little house and fishing for a living. That sounds like heaven to me."

"Yeah, it does," is all I say.

"Geeze Jet, I have all faith in you that you'll win, but you know how the games go. If you don't come home I'm not sure what I'll do. And what about Aria? Does she know?"

On the mention of Aria, my face immediately warms, and I can tell right away that I'm blushing. I met Aria through Cora a long time ago. She's practically the best friend I have outside of my family. There's a possibility that I feel a little more than her friend, but I'd never admit.

"She knows," I mumble trying to make it seem like I don't care.

"And Caspian?"

"Of course he knows, and he's proud of his brother. Dad has him brainwashed. This is why I have to go out there and win, because if I don't it'll be Caspian next."

"I understand Jet. It's terrible that this is how things have to work out."

"Yeah, it is," I whisper and Caspian turns to look at me with his bright eyes, waving me towards him and begging for me to race him the rest of the way. I smile and take off after him, possibly for the last time.

_Glisten Orton (District 1)_

"And now is the time to reap our tributes, however knowing how this district is I'm sure we will have plenty of volunteers. Rules are rules though, and we must oblige." Our escort prances across the stage to the female bowl first, and I watch him pluck out a name.

"And the name is Gem-…"

The expected words 'I volunteer', but instead of it being one voice like it's supposed to be, I hear it from two different peple. One from the girl who is supposed to be volunteering and another from a girl who I was desperately trying to stop from volunteering.

I already know how this is going to go down. Blush emerges from the crowd, a sly grin, planted firmly across her face, and gasps follow. Just about everyone in District 1 knows Blush, she's a daughter of a prominent figure, and she's not supposed to be volunteering. She's supposed to be out doing her father's dirty deeds.

Among the crowd Blush looks delicate and tiny with her petite frame. She's so much shorter than the other girls around her. One may peg her as a weak target, but I know her better than that.

She mounts the stage, nobody daring to question her decision.

"Well no surprises here, we have a volunteer. What's your name darling?"

"Blush Beaumont."

I know what I have to do.

"Now for the boy's…"

"Don't bother!" I yell breaking from the crowd and pushing a few people over. "I volunteer," and I join Blush on the stage. She doesn't make eye contact with me, and as always I'll never know what thoughts are crossing her mind. Is she angry? Regretful? Does she miss me as terribly as I miss her?

She may be able to hide her feelings, but she can't hide the growing tension between us, and the crowd notices too. They are "Oooh-ing" at us as though one of us is about to pounce the other.

"Okay then and you are?" Antonio, our escort, notices the awkwardness as well and tips the microphone to me trying to quiet the crowd.

"Glisten Orton."

I look over at Blush and see she is already staring me down. This is the first time we've been near each other since the incident with my father, and her normally shining green eyes seem to be darken with an ominous greeting.

"I wish you all a Happy Hunger Games and may the odds be ever in your favor!" I catch Antonio's last words before he urges us into the justice building.

_Estelle Clark (District 2)_

It's finally here. I've put hard work into this for the past eight years and now it's the time for me to shine. I can clearly recall my first reluctant day of training, when my coach at the time slashed me across the shoulder ready to teach me "how the world works" when I refused to do as he asked.

I understand now. The world in which I live in works by pleasing you're parents who are never satisfied, and training to be the best. I have accomplished the latter and when or if I return home I will be able to hopefully accomplish the first.

I glance over at my district competition. He will probably be the greatest obstacle. His name is Memor and I remember seeing him a few times with Noah, but he's one of those Careers who was trained at home. That already sets me at an advantage I figure.

He catches me looking at him and instead of offering a look of intimidation he flashes me a smile and winks at me. I look away in disgust, and am happy when I'm in the Justice Building alone. Noah has instructed me that my good-byes will be short and to stay cool, calm, and collected even though the cameras aren't looking.

However, when my first guest enters I almost lose my aloof demeanor.

"Estelle!" He rushes over to me and grips me tight in a hug.

"Hey Asher," I whisper to him and he releases me.

Asher is another career-in-training, but these are not his games and I am so happy for that. He'd make a trustworthy ally, but I would never be able to deal with his death. With all the training I go through, he's the only person I've been able to call a 'friend'. I recall last night when we walked to our favorite spot and looked at the stars, which he knows is my favorite thing to do. I know every constellation like I know every victor of the last thirteen games and their strategies.

"I'm not exactly sure what I'm suppose to say," he looks at me and his eye catches something. "I see you have the hairpin I got you for your last birthday."

I reach up and instinctively touch the pin.

"It's my token," and he responds with a smile.

"I know I'm supposed to be saying good-bye, but I don't have to, because I'll be seeing you soon," he says. "And when you get back I'll be buying you a diamond ring to match your hairpin."

I laugh. He always jokes about us getting married in the future. Our friendship is complicated though by the fact we both are supposed to enter the games and we're both supposed to win. The odds are not in our favor, and I always take his marriage comments as sarcasm. He knows it's slim that both of us will make it past the age of 18 let alone make it to an age where marriage might be an option.

Before I know it, guards are whisking Asher out.

"I love you," he calls before he disappears behind the door.

_Telise Aritol (District 4)_

Well I'm here now, and my father has no reason to be angry with me this year. I've done as he said and volunteered unlike last year where I became frightened at the fact that my death could be inevitable.

I thought that maybe my father would be supportive of my decision, and since I haven't been able to make any of my own choices the past few years, I thought it was fair.

It wasn't supposed to be like this. I started training when I was younger before District 4 ever became a 'career district' because my father wanted me to be prepared. Then when I wasn't reaped my dad decided that I needed to be in the games because I showed so much promise. If I didn't volunteer I would've been kicked out of the house, this time for good. Apparently I'm only as good as what my skills can bring home; fame, glory, and fortune.

I take notice of token which I have woven around my fingers. My two best friends, Brooke and Nedia brought me a piece of volleyball net. It reminds me of two of my favorite things: volleyball, of course, and the beach.

My father was so cheery with me when he came into say good-bye. Mother cried as she never wanted this to be my fate, but the one that hit home was my sister, Tallulah, and I weep for her because she is in for the same fate as I am.

I am not a cold-blooded murder like a few my fellow training partners, and Careers I have seen numerous times on my father's Hunger Games tapes, but I know it's what I have to do if I wish to win, and I will do whatever it takes to please my father and come home as a Victor.

**A/N: Okay this chapter probably took me longer to edit than it did to write. Some of these are short and sweet, but it's reapings and I don't want them to take too long. I regret not adding everything about them that I want, but we will see more about each of the tributes later. So sorry if it's a little too short and sweet.**

**Just so everybody knows I post update info on my profile. I'm usually pretty good about updating it, but if I haven't it probably means I've been lazy and haven't started writing. **

**Also I should probably bring up that I'm leaving to go back to college in less than two weeks. When the time comes I'm going to get buried in work and the million other things I've piled on my plate for this semester. Plus this next semester is going to be practically hell. Therefore these updates will not be as quick as they have been. You might not be seeing a chapter every week and I might have to take a hiatus or two once I'm mid-way through and have finals and stuff. I hope you guys will understand, and I'll try to write whenever I have the time, but I still want to be able to keep a decent GPA, have a somewhat of a social life, and get some sleep at night. I know it's a lot to ask, but I'll try anyways ;), and don't worry I won't be dropping this story and disappearing off the face of the Earth. **

**So do you like the shorter reapings better? I'll have a choice to write more stuff like on the train and training chapters etc. And what do you think of this batch of tributes? And what do you think Lucian, Athea, and Noah have done the past thirteen years? (I'm going back to them for the next chapter) Please leave me a REVIEW so all this writing and editing I just forced myself to do won't be in vain aha XD. ****Have a lovely Monday!**

**-Kayla**


	3. Time Will Not Heal Your Wounds

**A/N: I'm back already with a non-reaping chapter hence why it came out so quickly. This chapter is slow-paced, but it's a nice insight into Lucian/Athea/Noah's (I'm just going to start calling them LAN haha) life now. **

**Okay enjoy, and reapings will continue next. :)**

_Noah Daniels (District 2 Mentor)_

I secure the lock on the door and tug at padlock once more to check that it's secure. The training center will be locked down until I return back to District 2 either with Memor or Estelle or alone, so I need to make sure everything is sealed up tight.

Silly Memor for thinking I'd stay here all night. I have a family I need to see before I leave, and even though my death is not imminent, I've learned that every second is precious. Sometimes you wake up one morning and somebody you care about is suddenly dead and gone without warning.

Right on cue with 'dead and gone', I spot a familiar blonde hair man grasping the hand of a young girl as I'm about to leave. I instantly make the decision to try to sneak off without him noticing, but he looks in my direction and waves before I can get away.

"Hey Noah," he calls and so I go over to greet him as it would be rude otherwise.

"Lively," I look down at the little girl and smile at her. She stares at me without a word.

"So, another year, another games." I was hoping for a 'hello how are you' and a 'fine how about yourself' but I guess he wants to walk down this road instead.

I nod to him in response.

"How have you been lately?" I ask trying to stifle the awkwardness I'm feeling.

"I'm.. good. We're doing alright." He nods his head a few times as though he's trying to convince himself. Then looks down at the little girl.

God, she looks just like her.

"How old are you?" I ask her.

"Twelve," she whispers.

"Wow, you've gotten big. I haven't seen you in a few years."

She stares at me again and Lively tries to coax her out of her shell.

"Persia, you know Mr. Daniels. He was a friend of your mother."

She looks up at her father. "He wasn't her friend."

I chuckle nervously. Who knows what she's seen of me. Even if her father and step-mother kept her away as much as possible they still show game highlights every year, and sure enough my meltdown is documented and broadcasted every year. I'm sure she recognizes me as the man who helped her mother and then betrayed her even though I'm 28 years old now.

"Well it's been a long day," I quickly change the topic and proceed to excuse myself. "I need to get home before I'm missed. It was good seeing you Lively… and Persia."

"Same here," Lively says. "Say good-bye Persia."

She utters a 'bye' and they take off down the street. Persia however turns back to get one more glimpse of me and I see her green eyes, and Aeron in every facial feature.

I rush home. I need to get away from this situation and back to my home where I can feel some relief before tomorrow. I open the front door to the living area and immediately I see the little boy sitting on the floor surrounded by his blocks. He picks up a red one, then a green, but settles for blue and stands on his tip-toes to reach the top of the tower he's building.

"Noah! I wasn't sure what time you'd be home so we ate without you."

I divert my attention from the boy to the soft voice of my Trixie.

"It's okay," I say and I grab her around the waist, pulling her to me.

"Bad day?" She asks.

"It's that time, you know," I whisper in her ear. She doesn't respond, but she understands.

"Did Tristan eat?" I ask releasing her from my grasp.

She nods and I turn to look at him again. He's reaching with a red block now towards the top and sets it down gently. I lean down next to him.

"Hey buddy, that's a pretty tall building you got there," I say softly.

I don't expect an answer, but the doctor has told us that we should communicate with him nonetheless. Tristan hasn't spoken since he was four years old, and now he's on the edge of turning seven and not a word has been uttered from his mouth.

I don't blame him. He is so undeserving of everything that has happened to him in his short life. He doesn't even communicate with others through head nods or physical cues, anything.

I can only hope he speaks one day, and finally spills the truth about what happened to Elle. I pick up a block and hand it to him, he takes it from my hand and examines it before placing it back on the floor.

"I should probably put him to bed," Trixie breaks in and reaches for his tiny hand.

"Come on Tristan, I'll read you a story before you go to sleep," and he grasps a few of her fingers and they disappear down the hallway.

Later that night I find solace in a hot shower. I crank the heat up until it's almost scalding my skin. The shower is just like the ones in the Capitol, with digital temperature control, and way too many kinds of soap. I opt to stand under the water, my forehead pressed against the wall. I feel the sobs racking my body before I can even think to stop them.

It's true what they say about the games, you can leave the arena, but you'll never escape them until you're dead.

_Lucian "Chip" Sparx (District 13)_

This goes here, and if I attach it to here, and this to this, and I need to up the capacity, and yes I think this is it. I just need to switch the power on and…

An explosion proceeds. That wasn't supposed to happen. I want to laugh at the irony though. A flashback of my reaping thirteen years ago flashes before my eyes when I blew my room up and sent my grandfather cursing and swearing.

"Chip?" My name followed by a frenzy of coughing. "What the hell happened?"

I wave the smoke out from my face and turn on the ventilators. Of course my supervisor would be here at this time.

"Apparently my force field disabler isn't working as well as I thought it would." I respond.

"My god Chip how long have you been here?"

"What are you talking about?" I ask. I told him I'd be working late tonight.

"Chip, it's almost noon. I left here last night and you told me you were going home soon!"

"Shit!" I curse, and drop my defected machine on the table. I hurriedly dispose of my lab coat, googles, gloves, and try to get myself orderly. "I'm leaving now," I call and sprint out the door.

All I can think about is how I'm going to be dead when I get back. Of all days to lose track of time and I chose Reaping Day. I'm such an idiot. I open the door to the small living compound I occupy and meet her glare before I can get my shoes off.

"Athea…" she places her hands on her hips in a look that I am more than familiar with. "I'm sorry," is the first thing I blurt out. She doesn't answer me and goes back to scrubbing the dishes, albeit a little harder than needed.

"I volunteer!" I look up at the television to see a girl making her way to the stage. She's tall, with an athletic build, tanned skin and freckles. This must be District 4's reaping.

"She's pretty," and I look down to see little Alida and Faunas sitting in front of the television, completely absorbed in the reapings.

"Don't you guys have something else to do?" I snap at them. When the words leave my mouth I realize my voice sounds a little angrier than what I had meant it to be.

Alida's attention snaps from the television to me. As soon as my words hit her ears she reacts faster than a chemical reaction with a high rate constant.

She bursts into tears and begins bawling, and in chain reaction I hear the sound of a plate crashing and then Athea swearing. Ali runs off and Faunas gets up and sulks after her under my stare.

I look over and see blood flowing over Athea's hand and she violently tosses her rag to me and places her hand over the cut in an attempt to staunch the blood flow.

"You should get a 'Father of the Year' award you know that? You're gone three-quarters of the time and when you do come home, you yell at your children and make your six-year-old daughter cry."

I open my mouth to say something, but she isn't done yet.

"And second of all since you've finally decided to show your face you can clean up the kitchen."

"What?"

"Mara threw another one of her tantrums this morning. She's in her room now, but her breakfast and everybody else's is still splatter across the kitchen."

As soon as Athea shuts the bathroom door I throw the towel on the counter and sit down at the table to catch my breath. I haven't gotten to relax in a long time, and I'm running on little sleep. I mean, I guess that's my fault, but I'm not in the lab 'playing with my toys' as Athea calls it. I'm trying to invent something to help our nation, and our future generations.

If you would've told me thirteen years ago when I met Athea on that stage that we would be not only married, but have three children I would've told them I had better chances of growing wings and flying away into the sunset.

I'm not saying I don't love Athea, or my children, but this just wasn't the life I had expected for myself. I imagined being in District 3 being recognized for my work, and using my intelligence to it's highest capacity. Perhaps if we wouldn't have been sent here that this would've never happened, but I guess if you follow the motto of 'all things happen for a reason' then this was fate I suppose.

Having children was a decision that was pushed onto us by District 13. You see the exposure to harmful radiation has decreased fertility among their population and the death rate far exceeds the birth rate. It was pretty much a given that Athea and I have children, and one was not enough either. Besides that they also figured it would be a waste to not have Athea and I pass on our genes. Two of Panem's brightest are married, so why wouldn't their offspring inherit that as well? The only problem is genes are finicky things.

Amarata and Alida are identical twins, born six years ago. Mara has a temper worse than her mother, and the bright red hair to match. She is clever, but she lacks the self-discipline, and sure, she's only six years old, but I'm sure the traits will stick with her. Ali is over-sensitive, and though she's a sweetheart I haven't seen any outstanding developments. She enjoys playing with her dolls and probably loves her mother more than me.

And then there's Faunas, who is only three. I can't really speak of his intelligence as of now, but has already accelerated when learning how to walk and especially learning to speak. If any of the three possessed this so-called 'superhuman genius' that District 13 expected I would bet on him.

I realize I sound overly critical, but with my anger soaring to new heights I cannot banish my thoughts. Ever since I came to District 13 it's basically been about what they wanted. In a way they aren't much different from the Capitol, the only plus side is that there are no executions, or Hunger Games.

I rise from the chair and grab for the mop. I've known Athea long enough to know how to get her forgiveness. Don't talk back, and do as she says.

**A/N: I hope you guys saw that coming because I didn't, and I'm the author XD. Seriously though I never considered Athea/Lucian but it makes sense when I think about it. Who else would they have spent time with in District 13?**

**I don't think the children are going to come up a lot because they don't really have much to do with the plot, but if you guys like them then I'll write about them more. By the way Tristan is Noah's nephew if you didn't pick that up.**

**Okay I finished this chapter for you guys because you're wonderful and I care about you all, so leave me a review please? :)**

**And as always I wish you all a lovely Tuesday. **

**-Kayla**


	4. You Will Defy All The Odds

_Gig Destega (District 3)_

How many slips am I going to have today? It has to be over twenty, since my siblings and I have been taking tesserae out since we turned twelve, and not just enough to feed the family. There is also the tesserae we receive in the form of payment, which keeps my younger brother's medical bills paid for.

"Gig Destega please report to the OR stat." I click on my microphone and utter a quick 'okay' before turning down my earpiece and calling an early lunch to rush to surgery.

So I'm only fifteen, but somehow I was able to get this interning job at the hospital. I don't really do anything too extreme, mostly it's just dirty work or easy job like passing surgery tools. I want to make a good impression though if I am to work here full time someday. My family needs the money and I begged for them to hire me, especially because I'm so passionate about curing others of their pain.

It's like my younger brother, Delphin, who is thirteen years old and has been suffering from a congenital heart defect since the day he was born. To this day he's had three surgeries, and needs to get another one soon. My family is still trying to pay the bills for the first one. If Delphin had been with any other family like ours I'm sure he'd be dead. My family is extremely poor and unskilled. They never had the aptitude for technology that District 3 specializes in. It's basically like living in District 4 and being afraid of water. If you don't match the skills needed for your District's profession you're likely to end up with a poor-paying labor job where you fight to feed your family.

So yes my family may be in poverty, but we are proud of what we've worked for, and we have done whatever it takes to keep Delphin alive, and that's compassion that lacks in many other people I've seen.

On my run to the OR I remember that today is Reaping Day. Reaping Day means my slip could be pulled and I won't be around to save my brother someday. My slip is in there more times than most of the other District children, and there's not just me to worry about; my sister is just as much of a contender as I am. We've taken out enough tesserae to feed a family of ten I'm almost positive.

I must not focus on the possibilities. Like my older sister, Charcoal would say; it's illogical to worry about things that have not even happened. Right now I must focus on this job and the possibilities of my future.

_Jennifer Raitte (District 5)_

I wish more than anything that I could be at home, where I am alone, but here I am, working in this little shop while trying to get my schooling in for the day. Luckily, today is Reaping Day, and the one blessing that comes with this day is slow business and early closing.

"Jennifer?" I look up to see the hulking man that is my boss. If anyone in the world misunderstands me, it's him. "Put down your books, and get to the register. There's somebody at the counter."

Okay so I have the tendency to drift off and forget about my job, but I'm a lot more distracted today than I usually am.

"Sorry," I mutter and set my textbook down. I stand up and try to iron out the newly formed creases in my pants. I flash my greatest smile possible and walk to the register to greet the customer, just as I was taught.

"Hi, how are you?" I would usually avoid conversation formalities but I'd get in trouble for doing such things.

The customer of course does not answer my question and I am reminded of why I dislike these formalities. I ring him up and he hands me his money without a word and walks out of the store.

Honestly, he has to be one of my favorite customers, despite his initial rudeness. I hate this job because I have to provide friendly customer service to those that come through the door, but talking to people exhausts me and sends me home to recharge by lying around and reading my books. Most of their questions they bother me about could be answered by a simple investigation. They don't need to ask me if we carry something, they can look for themselves on the shelves. That's what I would do. Why bother people if you don't have to?

"Jen, we're going to close now. I just need you to organize and clean up and then you're free to go home!"

Finally, it's about time. I can deal with cleaning and organizing; actually they are some of my favorite activities. My OCD makes sure that there is nothing that puts me at ease quite like putting things in their places.

I rush home as soon as I'm finished to my mom who is waiting patiently for me in the kitchen. I bathe myself in cold water and then my mother works on untangling my hair while quizzing me on what I studied today. I am unfocused, however, and I answer question after question wrong much to her disdain. My mother holds intelligence in a high regard, she home-schools me herself. When I do not soak up the information like a sponge, she will often get impatient with me, and I don't want to deal with it right now.

"Do we have to do this Mother, please?" I beg her. "It is Reaping Day and of course my mind is not focused on my studies."I am fearful, and who isn't? Usually I would tolerant my mother but today I simply cannot.

"I'm sorry dear, but you know how important it is to get your studies in. Now there you go, your hair is done up very nicely."

"Where's Dad?" I ask as I lift myself from the chair and smooth out my dress.

"You know how late he works, he said he'd try to be home, but I don't think he's going to make it."

I let out my sigh of disappointment.

"Don't worry Jen, he sends his best wishes to you and you will see him tonight.

I may see him tonight. It all depends how these reapings go.

_Elise LaFrate (District 6)_

As I watch our escort Diana, I can't help but think that a new escort for District 6 is in order. Sure Diana's been here since the first games, but she is getting old and worn out.

I nudge my best friend Jaela to grab her attention as Diana turns on a video that is 'straight from the Capitol'. How blessed are we to be able to view this footage every... single... year.

"What?" Jaela whispers.

"Check out our the new 'mentor'." I point to a young looking girl who sits in a chair on the stage picking at her nails. She seems to care as much about the video as the rest of us. District 6 has failed to bring home a victor in the last fourteen years and so every year we get a recycled mentor from another district who can't mentor their own district because somebody older and wiser already has the spot. So what do we get stuck with? A newly crowned victor who couldn't care less about what happens to the tributes.

"I've seen her around before," Jaela replies. "She's been mentoring for a few years."

"Well then perhaps we can have a decent mentor this year and bring home a victor." Or she is so terrible that they have to keep moving her.

Jaela nods and turns back to the screen. Just before the video ends a small beep emits from Jaela's direction.

I snap my attention from the giant screen to her. Jaela has recently been diagnosed with Diabetes, and is forced to be on a continuous monitor to read her blood sugar levels at all times. Whenever her meter starts beeping I automatically go into panic mode.

"It's fine," she says, "it's just dipping down a bit. I'll get something to eat as soon as this is over."

"I have candy," and I dig into my pocket and hand her sweets. Jaela is my best friend and nothing is going to happen to her under my watch.

"Thank you," she smiles.

"Now it's time to pick our very lucky tributes that will hopefully lead this district to its very first victory."

Whatever you say Diana.

She dips her hand deep into the bowl and shuffles her hand around for a few seconds before drawing out a name.

"Alright, our next contender for the Hunger Games, representing District Six is…" dramatic pause for effect, "Jaela Dubois".

Jaela goes pale immediately and crumples up the candy wrappers in her hand. Oh Panem, this can't be happening.

It should've been me. I have trained in Martial Arts, thanks to my father, as well as dance and gymnastics. Suddenly a visual picture appears in my head. A day where a 12 year old Elise was jumped in an attempted kidnap, and somehow that day I was able to defend myself against them and free myself. It should be me, not Jaela who has Diabetes. She'll never survive that arena. I might have a chance. I could be the District Six winner.

I run pass her, and urge her to go back.

"I volunteer!" I yell and the crowd turns to look at the willing volunteer. Districts like ours rarely get volunteers. There's always the off-chance that someone wants to save their family members, but even those are far and few in-between.

"Well now," Diana claps her hands in overenthusiasm. "We have a volunteer. Come right up here and tell us your name."

"I'm Elise LaFrate, and I'm going to do whatever it takes to get this district their first victor."

_Charcoal Destega (District 3)_

I carry Delphin to the square, much to his detest.

"I can walk myself," he pleads, "I'm not a piece of glass."

I know very well that Delphin is not a piece of glass, but he does have a heart defect that renders him unable to participate in physical activities. His body is light in my arms anyways, and carrying him is nothing compared to some of the machines and electronics I have to repair on a daily basis. Besides if I would let Delphin down, Gig would protest and carry him intstead.

Gig has always been protective over Delphin, and closer to him than neither I, nor our parent's ever got. Not only protective, but also thoughtful of Delphin's wishes. Why, it had been Gig who stood on his side when he wanted to get tesserae on his twelfth birthday like the rest of us, and when we argued back Gig jumped to his rescue and told us how important it would be to grant this wish to him.

"You can walk back," Gig compromises with him.

The odds of one of us not coming back are greater than I would like, but we have done what we needed to do.

When we get to the square I set Delphin down and head off towards the female section and I watch as Gig swings his arm across Delphin and walks him to check-in. Gig will make sure Delphin is cared for before he is.

"The first thing I notice is the crazy banners and decorations hanging around the stage. I am not surprised, as we got our first victor during the last games. Now District 3 can have a proper mentor and some others are hopeful that maybe we can keep the streak going. Lightening doesn't strike the same place twice, so the odds of our small technology district bringing home another victor is likely not to happen. Adrianne Finch, who is our new victor, is not any District 3 tribute, sure she was intelligent, but she fought brutally to come out on top.

The events of the reaping go in order from Adonis, who has served as our escort since the games were created, flaunting our district, to showing the usual video, Adrianne goes up and says a speech that is emotional in words, but not in execution, and the escort raves about our win once again before finally marching off to the first bowl that holds female names.

"Charcoal Destega!" He yells, and I immediately feel myself shutting down.

Oh Charcoal you know this was going to happen, so you might as well accept it. I walk up on stage; shake the escort's hand. I stand in front of the crowd and try to avoid making contact with my younger brothers because it could easily break me.

"And our male tribute is… Gig…" he stops after the first word and looks up at me, then back to the slip. "Gig Destega," and it comes out as more of a question.

"What!" I catch Gig's voice. I hear chuckles from the older teenagers, probably partly from my brother's reaction and partly because the drawing of my brother's name has guaranteed that they will be returning home to their families. Everyone turns to stare at him and when Gig emerges his face is as red as the lipstick that graces the lips of President Snow.

I want to reprimand Gig for being so emotional as he climbs the stairs and takes his spot next to me.

"Wow, are you guys related?" Adonis looks at us shock.

I nod my head. That's a stupid question. The Destega name is not a popular one.

_Matthew Vencedor (District 5)_

I have to give the Capitol credit; they know how to decorate their buildings. Sitting on this plush couch is sure to be a sneak preview of what to expect when we finally reach the grandeur of the Capitol itself.

I guess if there were any good place to say my good-byes to my family, it would be here. I've always been family-oriented, so this will probably be the hardest challenge I'm going to face in the next few weeks. This moment will probably kill me more inside than anything the Gamemaker's can think of.

I may sound like my head is blown up, but I consider myself to be a strong contender, and I'm confident in my abilities to come home as victor. My most important aspect is my ability to strategize. Some of these tributes go into the games without a plan and that's why they die so quickly. We should all take a lesson from the Careers who have it all figured out. They plan for the games and train until they volunteer. By then they are lethal, able to kill, and usually fast on their feet, while the rest of us are cowering on our platforms and making a run for it in hopes that they may get lucky.

If I am to emerge as victor I must think of a strategy. It's not a secret that the Careers are the biggest challenge to face and so I will have to find a way to get rid of them as quickly as possible.

How am I to accomplish such a feat? I turn my thoughts to my district partner. Her name is Jennifer Raitte. At first glance she looks meager and thin, nothing extraordinary, not to mention her quiet disposition. I know I have seen her a few times because my mother shops at the store she works at, but every time I've seen her, she's had her nose in a book and her interpersonal skills were severely lacking.

I'm a quiet guy myself, but when it's my turn to speak I can. Jennifer exudes social awkwardness and a lack of motivation to fix it. Since the Hunger Games is partly about your skills and partly about your likeability I can already sense that she will be stuck in the shadows. Would allying her benefit me in anyway? I need to figure that out first. There is no question that Jennifer is and underdog but I know that any underdog can rise to the top.

_Rusti Lewis (District 6)_

Rigged! I swear this entire thing has been rigged. I want to slam my fists into the perfect couch and spit on the shiny shoes of whoever decided that this was right.

How is it possible that Rusti Lewis, the lone nephew of Jasten Redwood would be reaped? I'm the third one in this blasted family and thanks to the Capitol my family has been torn to shreds because of it.

My mother, oh how can I begin to describe the fate that has been unleashed upon her? A morphling addict who was so unfit to care for me I was forced to be handed over to my father's brother and sister-in-law.

I was a product of morphling, myself: my mother a morphling addict, and my father, Jacob Lewis, the morphling dealer. Of course neither were fit to care for me when I was born, so they dumped me to my aunt and uncle. Those nine months in the womb is the closest I have been and ever will be to my mother. My aunt and uncle are basically my parents and probably the only two people in the world that I can trust, since I have been let down by everybody else.

As if on cue, they appear in the doorway, and as soon as I see my aunt's tears I run to her arms. Her tears make me so sad I want to cry for hurting her, even though this was not my fault.

"It'll be okay," I try and fail to soothe her, but she wipes the moisture from her eyes and tries to compose herself. There are no words of comfort, or wisdom. They know as well as I do that I am doomed to be another young Redwood who is six-feet under.

"We would've brought your mother but…" my aunt tries to form the words that will let me down the least. I know this all to well.

"It's okay," I say. "She's probably in one of her stupors again. She doesn't care anyways."

"Rusti…" my uncle cuts in and I cut his words out.

"Please, don't make this harder for me," I sigh and flop on the couch.

I don't want to let my only family who has cared about me down. I can't imagine my aunt, the helpful schoolteacher, to lose her job and her life to morphling after seeing me die like my mother. It's enough to motivate me to fight through and become a victor just so I can save them the torture I see in my mother's eyes whenever the morphling's effects has started to wear off.

"I'm going to try to come home," I blurt and my aunt smiles at me.

Before I know it they are calling them away and my aunt kisses me on the cheek and walks out, wiping her stray tears from her cheeks.

I am not expecting anymore guests, but the door peaks open and I see my only friend, Noelle, who also happens to be my girlfriend, but I've been keeping that a secret from everyone else.

"What are you doing here? Go home!" I tell her and her head droops in discontent.

"I just wanted to bring you something," she murmurs.

"What is it?" What could Noelle have possibly scavenge up to me that would do me any good right now?

She reaches for her wrist and unhooks one of her little charms on her bracelet. She places in my hand. I look down at it and see that it's a little train. How silly of her to give me this, though it reminds me of my uncle who is a train conductor.

"Thanks," I say, and she turns bright red.

"You're welcome," she says shyly. Then she runs up to me, plants a kiss on me cheek and runs out of the room.

**A/N: I'm going to try to get the next two reaping chapters out as soon as I can since I'm leaving either Friday or Saturday to move back to college. **

**Let me know what you think about these six. Leave me a REVIEW please because I read them all and they make me smile and very happy. :D**

**OH! If you're interested in writing for a collab. (similar to 24 authors, 24 tributes sort of thing) send me a PM or go find the link on my profile. Okay it's in desperate need of writers!**

**Have a most wonderful Sunday, and to those who got your Hunger Games DVD, I hope you're enjoying it. I'm still waiting for mine to come in the mail ahhhhh!**

**Thank you for being wonderful!**

**-Kayla**


	5. You Will Maintain Your Integrity

**A/N: Hello my beautiful readers! For those of you who don't look at the update information on my profile, I did indeed move into college yesterday and have spent the last two days unpacking, settling in, catching up with my roommate, and I had to attend a long ass meeting (excuse my language, but you've been warned haha). I had some time tonight though so I figured I'd type this up quick.**

**I apologize that the reapings are getting shorter, but I find them tedious and I wanted to update ASAP. I do love these characters, but I also love to finish chapters and go to sleep, and I hardly doubted I'd finish the chapter this weekend because my other two roommates are moving in this weekend and I'll probably be running around with them before I have to start classes on Monday.**

**Okay, just a heads up for you all. The next chapter may take a bit (though I'll try to get it out this first week of classes)**

**Enjoyyy,... **

_December Blackwood (District 7)_

"Got a problem?" I hiss as I walk by an older middle-aged man who is staring me up and down like I'm not supposed to be here.

I am supposed to be here because I work here. I'm only sixteen and maybe I should be in school, but school doesn't put food in our stomachs. So here I am, in the middle of the forest, cutting down trees by hand. I'm not old enough to use any machines, but I've become skilled with an axe the last few years, and it's done my arms a lot of good.

"Can't you keep your mouth shut?" My brother laughs next to me as he slams his axe into the dense wood.

"Aiden you can't take the shell of a turtle," I respond.

My brother is three years older than me, and it's thanks to him that I even learned how to use an axe. There is a lot more than just grabbing the handle and hitting trees with it. It requires a certain form and strength.

"And I can't take the sarcasm from Ember either."

Just like my name, I can be both cold and brutal. I've had a rough start though, so you can't really blame me. I never really had anyone to rely on, and I've worked to achieve everything I have ever gotten.

The ringing of the church bells that sits not too far away alert me that work is over. Reaping Day means an early closing and a smaller paycheck. I rest the axe on the ground and lean it against my leg so I can brush my hands on my pants. They're so callused that I've stopped noticing and I pick my tool back up and follow Aiden out.

"I hate Reaping Day," I mutter.

"That's something we can actually agree on."

My father is already home when we get there, sitting with his 'coffee' by coffee I mean a few grains we can scrounge up that is mixed in hot water.

I walk over and lean in to give him a hug. This is Aiden's first year without a reaping and that is a blessing. I, however, have three measly years left. I doubt I'll be reaped though. Something good has to come out of all the hard work I've done. I swear it has to.

_Frey Thistlemit (District 8)_

I pluck the cotton from the plant, and although I usually get pricked many times a day it makes Mom and Dad happy, and helps everyone in the house. They say it puts money in their pockets for food even though I hardly see any food to begin with.

The little ones always get fed first, Weave, Embroider, and Embellish always get the most. Then Hem and I eat and Mom, Dad, and my older brother Spool get the last bits, which usually amounts to nothing. I'm lucky if there's anything to eat when I get fed.

I don't care though. Mom says these things have taught us to be unselfish, and I don't care about food or money anyways when I'm working. I'm used to being hungry, it's just something that's apart of me, like my blue eyes. I just want to help out and make my family happy, honest.

Not everyone in our district is so poor, and I never understood why life has to be this way for us. With a family of eight though there isn't a lot to go around. This is why other kids get to go to school and I don't. Spool even went to school before, he taught me how to write my name with letters once, but that's about all I've ever gotten to learn.

"Boys!" My father calls to Spool and I. I stop picking and give him my attention. "Go inside now. You're done for the day."

"But I only picked half," I call back. You can't just not finish a half. Spool will have half left and so will I and Dad will have to work extra hard to pick up the slack.

"You know the drill. Go inside so your mother can clean you up."

Mom scrubs us to bits with cold water. She tells me to stop squirming, but I don't like to be bathed. I only get a bath once a year and that's the day when the big ol' Capitol comes to take two of us away.

"Hold still, Frey," my mother says as she picks through my hair. I hate Reaping Day more than anything.

"Mom?"

"Yes?"

"If my name gets pulled today… do you think…"

"Do I think what, darling?"

"Do you think Spool will volunteer for me?"

She quiet for a bit before she answers.

"I have no doubt in my mind."

_Dillion Lightwood (District 9)_

"Come on Dillion! Wake up!"

"Get away!" I yell back. Why can't the damn woman leave me alone? Her boy is long gone and still she plays a mother hen. I'll get out of bed when I goddamn feel like it.

She comes over and yanks the blankets from me, and I pull a flattened pillow over my head.

"This is what happens when you drink Dillion, you get a hangover. It's your body's way of telling you that you're a complete dumbass. Now get up, unless you want the Peacekeepers knocking on your door."

"Shitttt," I groan under my pillow and I flip over on my back, almost blinding myself because of how bright the room is.

"Yeah, you forgot it was Reaping Day, didn't you?"

"What time is it?" I ask.

"Almost four, now get yourself up and get moving."

"Okay Alyce, you don't need to nag me, holy smokes."

This is my last reaping and I couldn't be anymore thankful. In fact, I think I'll throw a party, even if I am chosen, I mean I heard it's all you can eat and drink there at least that's what Boxer wrote to me in a letter he sent home before he died. That was thirteen years ago, but I still have it. I don't tell anyone this but I read it every year on Reaping Day.

I don't remember Boxer really well, but apparently he cared a lot about me. It's hard to believe because the family I have left treats me like I'm some rag doll, my family being my father.

Perhaps if my brother were here I would've turned out differently. I know that he once tried to protect me, but I know now that there's no time to dwell on the past. Besides I have Alyce to croon over my shoulder and I'm still just as reckless.

Alyce's belly is protruding out like she's shoved a balloon under her shirt. The baby is not my brother's, but I'd like to believe it would be if he were still here. If he would've won. I guess it's his own damn fault though. He opened that sketchy barn door on his own.

"You're welcome to stay on the farm with Drust and I tonight if you wish.

"If I'm still here tonight." I chuckle. "For all you know I could be riding my way to the Capitol."

"Well I'll hope for the best," she says and then turns to stare at the door; a sign that she's eager to leave. I don't blame her. I hate this house too. "What are the chances?" She whispers under her breath.

"The same as Boxer's and look what happened to him."

Alyce shakes her head and moves towards the door.

"I'll see you tonight."

I rush to my dresser and try to find some clothes. They aren't decent looking, but it's the best I have. I'll probably have to run to the reaping, but that's whatever. I couldn't care any less.

_Kain Sillett (District 7)_

"Welcome everybody!" Oh we have a new escort this year. How pleasant.

"My name is Verna, and I'm excited to be starting my first year as an escort in this district. Why, I can't believe I was able to nab this spot, where victors have been crowned, while others are still stuck in the likes of ten and twelve."

Brag all you want lady. I tune out the sound. I'm use to the silence of the woods. The sound of birds cooing in the trees, the rustling of leaves, the dull drone of a chainsaw against wood, but never human voices.

I never leave the woods, it's been my home for a few years now. I suppose I have the tendency to run from my problems and hide. Family life was never good though, and that's why I had to leave in the first place.

I catch the eye of my father who sits on the stage, a smug look on his face. He's one of District 7's victors and proud of his feats. I can't suppress the hate I have for that man. I turn from him and look for my brother as Verna drones on. Her Capitol accent makes me want to dig my eardrums out.

Wren is thirteen years old now, and I took him with me when I ran. It was because of Wren that I had to make the decision to get away. I couldn't let him home for my father to hurt, and call him a murder. Lucky we have help from my best friend Winter, and she helps to keep our family going. Sometimes when father isn't home I break into his stupid mansion in Victor's Village to steal food, anything to keep Wren and me alive.

"Now it's time to pick our tributes and bring District 7 another victor home."

I hear a few cheers from the crowd, but mostly it's silent, and Verna scoffs as she yanks a slip from the female reaping bowl. A smile dances on his face, and I remember this is her first slip.

"December Blackwood!"

The girl should be honored to be Verna's first pick. I roll my eyes at the thought. Verna will probably tell that girl herself. Seconds pass and there is no shuffling from the crowd. Verna clears her throat and tries again. I look around as though I'm going to find this December girl among the crowd, even though I know I haven't seen her before.

"December Blackwood," Verna's voice rings louder, but still nothing.

Peacekeepers automatically deploy looking for her, and immediately one of the girls next to her points her out. I imagine them having to pull her up towards the stage, but she moves as soon as they grip her arm. A large smile plants firmly on her face, either this girl thinks she's tricky or she's out of her mind.

"Well now December, you must follow directions. When you are called to the stage you come up here."

December doesn't answer her and so she prances over to the male bowl before the awkwardness of December's silence is able to set in.

"Wren Sillett!"

My brother?

I glance up to my father, but his face is emotionless. Images of my father smacking Wren, deeply bruising him, breaking skin for no reason whatsoever flash through my mind faster than I can catch them.

"I volunteer!" My voice comes out shaky and Wren turns to look at me. I trek towards the stage and tell him to go back and go to Winter's house. He'll be safer there anyways. He tries to protest but I ignore his cries. I can't turn back now because if anybody's going to deal with my father, it's going to be me. I made a promise to myself long ago that I would not let him near Wren ever again and I will keep that, even if it means going to the games.

Blood has always been more important to me than it ever was to my father anyways.

_Aurora Eventide (District 8)_

Here I am, standing on a stage. There are so many people standing on the ground. Why can't I stand on the ground too? I don't understand what I'm doing, and I look over to see a small boy standing next to me. He gives me a genuine smile, and I look away. I don't know if I should smile back or not.

Someone pushes me away and before I can decide what to do, and the next thing I know I'm in a little room. As soon as they close the door on me it's as though a key has opened the lock shielding away my thoughts.

"This can't be real," I whisper to myself. But the problem is that this is very real.

I have never frozen up that way in my life, but maybe it's for the better. I probably seemed weak, but does that matter? Every tribute I've seen has always pretended they were strong. Why would I want the other tributes to think I'm strong? What if it were the other way around? Nobody needs to know anything about me, and that includes any wisp of my personality. They can believe I'm weak.

I stare down at the red plush of the couch and rub my hand across the fabric, staining one side dark with each swipe I make.

I can figure this out, I think to myself.

_Don't let the tributes see who you are. _

I cannot give away my true nature. So what do I act like?

_Be the opposite of who you are._

I know I can manipulate, I know I can be emotionless and cold, my father has made sure of that over the years, but if the others saw that they would be expecting me to be a stronger tribute. Ironically, my blanked thoughts at the reaping may have helped me in the long run.

Besides I have the looks to go along with it. I'm not even five feet tall, and I'm younger than the others will be I'm sure, except for maybe little Frey who is now my district partner. I stand up to look at myself in the small mirror that hangs above a vanity. I'm sure hardly anyone uses this, and I roll my eyes at the grandeur of the higher class. They have all the money to spend in the world, while the rest of us must work hard to get a decent meal everyday.

I press my hand against the smooth glass and shine my widest smile. I'm just a wide-eyed sweet girl stuck in a bad situation. Nobody will ever know my true intentions. I don't want to die, and so I will not fall easily.

_Fiona O'Conner (District 9)_

Séana and my father come to see me first, and my little sister throws her arms around me in tears.

Minutes ago I took the plunge and sacrificed myself to the games so my twelve-year-old sister, Séana, could live. I can never bear when I see twelve-year-olds in the arena, so seeing my sister there would've been even worse. I don't understand how someone can let their younger siblings go into the games alone. It almost seems like an obligation, as an older sibling to volunteer for them, but I also love my sister more than I could describe. I don't know what I'd do if I had to watch her run through the arena, young and scared when I could've been there to take her place.

I may die, and I know that. I'll accept my death because I will have at least died for somebody else. My sister can live, and that's all that matters right now.

I love up at my father with his graying hair and deep wrinkles. He has always been a kind man. I love him just as much as I love Séana even though he never has the right words to encourage me. I don't need them right now though, all I need is to hold Séana and my father in my grasp and never let them go.

I'll never be able to say I had money, but I always had my family. Being from District 9 usually means you're both poor and illiterate. We work from sun-up to sundown, but I always have time for these two. No amount of money in the world could replace them.

"I love you," Séana cries into my shoulder and I fall over in her embrace. I don't want to leave them. This is going to be the hardest part for me. I'd rather die than say good-bye right now.

My father moves from his stoic position and starts digging around in his pocket.

"I brought something for you," he says, and then hands me a leather bracelet. I've seen this bracelet adorning his wrist many times. My father told me it belonged to his father, and probably was owned by his father before him. He places it in my hand and I am struck with tears. This bracelet is probably my father's most prized possession and now he's giving it to me.

At that moment I suddenly realize the importance of this moment. These could be the last moments I spend with my family. So I hold my arms out and Séana runs to me, and my father places his arms around both of us.

The Peacekeepers immediately call them out, and Séana begins to sob uncontrollably into my shirt. She clings on for dear life and I beckon her away.

"Take care of yourself. You have to be there for dad. It's an important job, okay?" She nods her head albeit reluctantly and I sneak in one last hug before my father grabs her hand and pulls her away.

Séana waves until the door is closed behind her. I take a deep breath because red eyes will not help me when cameras start flashing, but I can't stop the flow of water from my eyes and give in to the sadness that has suddenly enveloped me.

**A/N: Okay, yeah short reapings, but after I'm done with the last one I'm writing a LAN chapter, then I'm going to do a few train rides/mentor/Capitol chapters. So short reapings mean more pre-games and each character has some backstory left untold that can be revealed later, plus I hardly remember reaping chapters. My only purpose is to get you introduced a bit to these characters. So if there's something I missed and you really want it to be mentioned just shoot me a PM and I'll make sure to include it later. I think that's a fair deal. :)**

**Thank you for reading and for all the lovely reviews 33. Please leave me some for this chapter too and let me know what you think of these six :D**

**I'll try to update when I can, but I won't make promises right now, but I'm never too busy to answer PMs if you need something. **

**Have a fantastic weekend.**

**-Kayla**


	6. You Will Not Be Overlooked

**A/N: Sorry for the long wait! I've been writing a little bit every night, which should make you all happy, because I give up my leisurely reading for this haha. **

**And sorry for the shorter POV's, it's really tedious to right these, and honestly I just wanted to get this submitted today.**

_Syrah Holt (District 10)_

"Syrah, why don't you be a doll and hand me my lighter." My mother lies sprawled back on our new, expensive couch, and I lie down my journal to retrieve it for her.

Upon placing it in her hand she lights the cigarette in between her teeth and takes a long drag.

"Why do you spend your time on those books and things?"

How does she want me to answer?

"I like them," I respond.

She laughs and props herself up on her elbow on the one side of the couch so she can reach the ashtray on the table.

"You know why you get to have things you like Syrah?" She asks.

"Because of you."

"That's right," she says, "all this because I wasted my life doing something others would scorn at me for, and Rymind's ex-wife," she spits it out like it's a diseased word, "probably wishes me for dead." She places the cigarette between her lips. I don't know how to respond and I'm about to go back to my chair but she catches me again.

"But we get to live the good life, baby. It was all worth it."

Rymind's our district mayor, and my new step-father. At one time in my short life I was stuck living in the Barn, eating whatever plants I may have found, and digging through the garbage when my stomach became to empty to bare. Life is rough, but as my mother would say, 'all good things come to those who deserve it'.

I don't know if I agree with her, but she's played her part well enough to get us from the bottom to the top.

I used to think the guys she brought home all the time were my uncles. A few of them were very nice, others looked at me as though I was the scum of the Earth. I'd like to think I've experienced having many fathers take care of me growing up.

Regina pops her head in, carrying a vacuum behind her. She's the housemaid, and she's the reason why I don't believe in my mother's saying. Regina is one of the nicest people I've ever met and deserves the world, but yet she must succumb to cleaning a richer man's house to earn enough to get by.

"Darling, I need to clean up this room. Why don't you go outside? It's such a nice day, not even a chance for rain, and you might even catch a few cows wondering around."

I don't want to, and if anyone else had asked me I would have blatantly refused, but for Regina I would do anything, so I rise from my seat and make my way towards the backdoor.

Regina is right, it's a blue-sky-white-clouds day. I don't see any livestock meandering around, but I hear them in the distance. District 10 is an absolutely beautiful place, but unfortunately one cannot stop to examine its beauty. Many people, who were once like me and my mother, are starving on the streets. Farmers are beating their animals to a pulp to make them do as they please. The reputation is under scrutiny because we are an 'out-lying district'.

I refuse to believe such lies. District 10 is as beautiful as my mother when she puts on her make-up and nice clothes, and maybe even more beautiful than that.

I don't particularly like to go outside, but on days like today I find myself falling into the grass and staring up at the sky. I may have become too comfortable when transitioning into this life, but this place is paradise, and if my mother's words ring true, hopefully the rest of my life will be showered with good fortune.

_Cherokee Landon (District 11)_

One-half workday separates me from my second to last reaping. I pull on my work boots and check on my mother who is still sleeping on one of the small cots occupying the house.

The caregiver will be here in a few hours to check on her, and hopefully she will remain sound asleep until then.

I close the door gently behind me and take off at a brisk pace for the field near my house that I work at. Most of my co-workers are a lot older than me, and possess more experience. Mostly I stay silent, I respect their position.

There is no shortage in hard labor among us, and even though I'm only seventeen I have to do just as much as everyone else.

Dark hair and light eyes come into my window of view. I do a double-take not because I don't recognize her, but because I can't believe she's here.

"Jaynee?"

She stops mid-step and when she sees me. She fidgets with a bracelet adorning her left hand before making solid eye-contact.

"Hi Kee," she pauses, her thoughts seemingly absent. "How are you?" She manages.

"Alright," even though I'm not quite to that point yet. "I'm just heading to work for the day."

It's been so long since I've seen Jaynee. I have no idea what to tell her because there's so much to say.

"Why aren't you in school?" She looks shocked and I don't understand why. It's her fault, technically.

"Somebody needed to bring in some money."

She turns to look behind her. There is nobody here to cover her mistakes for her now. Jaynee could run away again, and I'm thinking she might make an excuse, but she looks back at me and begins spewing words.

"Listen Kee, I'm… I'm really sorry."

"Jaynee," I'm ready to tell Jaynee how I really feel. I want her to know she's ruined her family.

"Kee, I know it means nothing, but I love you and I love mom. I ran because I was scared. Don't think I don't feel guilty, but I do every single day."

"Then why don't you come back?"

"I… just can't. You may call me a coward, but this is my choice."

"Is this about Dad?"

She shakes her head immediately.

"You know mom has never talked about him! Maybe if she did, she wouldn't be the way she is. She could save herself."

"No," the words leave my lips before I think them through. Family should take care of each other.

"Cherokee, please forgive me."

I never really looked like my sister. She's shorter, petite, with lighter skin than mine. But it's those blue eyes that set us apart. Nevertheless, she is my sister.

"I will forgive you," I say, "even if I don't agree with your choices."

A small smile forms on her face and she reaches out to give me a hug. She whispers a quick thank you in my ear.

"I have to go," I say when she releases me. "I'm going to be late."

She nods with understanding.

"Good luck today," she says.

Why is she wishing me luck? But then I remember. I had almost forgotten.

_Wallace Baroney (District 12)_

I can't deal with these reapings right now. I have the worse hangover in the world and Iris is just blabbing on and on.

"Now I know we haven't had any victors yet, but that's no reason to have low spirits. This year could be our year!"

Iris talks like she lives here. She doesn't understand what it's like to be a district citizen scavenging for food. Most of our children are so thin, if a District 2 career got a hold of them they could just snap them like a twig.

I should not have stayed out so late last night. But who can blame me? The before reaping mine parties are the best. There is nothing quite like celebrating the night before you might unluckily get picked form a bowl of names to be sent to your death.

I take a look at the meagerness around me. District 12 could use a little more fun.

"Now we will pick the tributes, and as always ladies will go first."

Finally, let's hurry this up so I can go back to bed, and rest my headache.

"Wallace Baroney."

Ahh, shit. Why the hell do I have to deal with this? I can't escape the sigh as I walk to the stage. Iris offers me a reassuring smile.

"Sorry Iris, but I'm not in the mood. Can you just hurry this up? I need to sleep." and she looks at me like I've just grown another head. She retains her disposition though and marches to the bowl of male names.

"Cole Andra!" She calls.

I don't place the name, but his face is familiar. I've seen this boy around before. He certainly isn't a partier, I would know him if he were.

He curses as he approaches the stage and I watch Iris fall apart at the seams. Cole and I aren't a normal batch of hungry District 12 tributes.

"Lace," he says softly as he takes my hand firmly in a not-so-friendly handshake.

I see he knows me too. I wish I knew where from, but my memory is terrible.

Right now I need to lie down for a while. I'll figure this out later when my brain isn't lying in a puddle of mush.

_Damion Toma (District 10)_

"Go! Get out of this house." My father curses at me angrily and I head for the door.

"You know I think it'd be better if I were reaped rather than to come home to parents like you," I snap before slamming the door.

This is a common occurance. Sure, you might say that everyone fights with their parents sometimes, but this is something else entirely. My father is an angry man, my mother doesn't do jack shit. Honestly I mean it when I say I'd rather be reaped.

Some might say I'm over exaggerating, but I have this problem with people. I don't like them. I try to avoid them, and so I stay inside a lot. I'm unemployed, I don't try hard in school, and I've gone out of my way to be quiet and fly under the radar. My parents don't approve though. They say I lack the motivation, and here in ten, you can't lack motivation if you want to live. I mean that in literal terms, without a job I'll end up starving and lying dead in some field.

My parents' lectures don't help though. In fact, they do more harm than good. Their disapproval in me makes me feel even less motivated to make something of myself. If your parents don't believe in you, whom else are you supposed to turn to?

My life is pretty much shit. Why shouldn't I go into the Hunger Games? If I try once in my life, I'll never have to live the life on an average farmer. Instead I can have my own mansion in victor's village and be loved by all.

The idea is enticing, and I convince myself I would have a chance to win. District 10 is not known for pumping out victors, but I think I've figured out what the other tribute's problems are when they enter the arena.

They are more than willing to take on a trusting ally.

Too many times I've seen somebody killed in their sleep by their so-called 'allies' and a lot of the time, those that betray go on to win. Yeah, they don't deserve it, but they know how to play the game.

You can't trust anyone, and I have the untrusting skill down. I'm practically an expert.

A few weeks of my time, a nice view of the Capitol, and all I can eat. If I die perhaps I'll at least die with some kind of honor.

I'll do anything to get away from my parents right now, even if it's drastic.

_Alexis Fleet (District 11)_

"You didn't have to do this."

I take Jackalynn's hands in my own and attempt to sooth her.

"No, but I wanted to," I respond.

I look at her, and her eyes are distant and bare like they've always been. Blind and without a family, except for her little brother.

My mother always spoke to me about purpose. She told me that each person placed upon this ground was here for a reason. I thought mine would be to grow up and take care of people. I guess I was right, except I'll have to step up now, at 13.

I've already been able to save my best friend, and this will be a chance for me to save somebody else.

Jackalynn stares into the abyss. I want to know what she sees.

_Cole Andra (District 12)_

The Wallace girl looked at me as though she doesn't know me, which pisses me off because I saved her ass long ago.

That girl is always getting herself into some kind of trouble. We have similar lifestyles, except I'm nowhere as idiotic. Wallace stands there and picks at her nails as though she's at some boring meeting. I was reaped for the games and I am fully aware of the seriousness of all this. I'm past the point of pissed and I want to crack the first Capitolian I see in the face. Right now that happens to be Iris, but Iris is probably going to be the most helpful resource for me to win, so I clench my fists together at my side and hold my anger back. I can certainly keep myself under control.

If the Capitol wants a show, that's what I'll give them. Lace looks over at me, and lowers her eyebrows. That's when I realize I'm smiling, and I turn away and pretend I can't see her.

District 12 will not go unnoticed this year.

**A/N: Okay, can you guys go and do me a huge favor? Retromother is writing a SYOT and she really needs tributes. The form is relatively short and won't take long, and she has a lot of spots open! It's under my favorites! So go submit please! You guys are always good about helping someone out when I ask, and for that I say thank you!**

**Okay I don't really have much of this story planned out, but I'm going to have another LAN chapter, and then probably train/mentor/Capitol chapters.**

**Let me know who you want to see, leave me a review, PM me if you need anything, have a good rest of the weekend. :D**

**-Kayla**


	7. I Am Obligated

**A/N: Hey, hey! I'm back with another chapter. See, I still can get updates out once a week, ahaha. :D**

**Anyways don't let me hold you up...**

_Athea DiMae District 13 Citizen_

"I'm sorry," I whisper through the darkness.

The bed shifts slightly next to me. I didn't know if Lucian was awake when I said that, but I guess he is. Sometimes I find myself speaking to him in the dead of night, when I need to. Especially when the nightmares come and I have no idea what to do with them. Now I need him to know I'm sorry for acting the way I did earlier. When game season rolls around I'm practically mentally unstable, and it's hard when he's not here, because as much as I don't want to admit it out loud, I need him. I need him here, and I need to apologize so he knows that, even if it isn't directly stated.

"What?" His voice is filled with the sound of sleep.

"I'm sorry," I say again. "I shouldn't have gotten angry earlier, I shouldn't have said you were a terrible father, and I shouldn't have left you to clean up Mara's mess again."

He's quiet after I say that, so I roll back over on my side, planning to sleep.

"Sorry," he says, "I just feel like I'm going into epileptic shock."

"What?"

"I figured you'd ignore me until I bought you something expensive to show you how apologetic I am. I never expected that the one and only Athea would come right out and apologize to me, and take blame."

"I've never done that!" I snap instinctively. I regret my harshness immediately because I kind of have done that. I've never asked him to buy something to earn my forgiveness, he runs off and does it himself. How do you stay mad at someone when they buy you expensive jewelry? It's not possible. There's no denying he is extremely intelligent, and though he lacks interpersonal skills, he's known me long enough that he has entire persona down to perfection. He's as much familiar with me as he is to the nuclear reactions that happen inside the weapons he helps design.

"I'm kidding," he whispers. I catch the amusement in his voice. It's so unlike him, but I enjoy these small moments. The ones where everything seems a little simpler, and Lucian isn't overwhelming me with his work, and his accomplishments and blah blah blah.

It's too bad I'm about to ruin the moment though.

"I'm calling my brother tomorrow."

Lucian doesn't answer right away, but he should have expected this. We have this discussion every year. It's practically a routine; the Hunger Games come around and we argue about me calling Micah. He shifts around next to me, until he's propped up against the headboard. I decide I should turn around to face him, so he knows I'm being serious.

"Athea," I know he's about to go into one of his lectures so I cut him off.

"Please don't try and stop me."

I'm going to get ahold of my brother eventually. I have to because he's the only other family I have left. I still have that older sister vibe that tells me I have to protect him, even though he is 23 years old now. I need to know that he's safe, and from the lack of contact I've had with him, I'm starting to think he might be gone. I need to know, or it'll drive me insane.

"Why are you trying to get yourself into more trouble? We're supposed to be dead. That means no contact with the rest of Panem, we're just apart of District 13, and to everyone else District 13 was blown to pieces thirteen years ago. It's the sacrifice that had to be made so that we could keep our lives."

"Well I'm not dead! Besides, how can you even understand my position? You don't have the need to go home because there's nobody at home for you to go back to!" As soon as the words slip out I know I've done some damage. I'm apologizing as soon as I say it.

Lucian sinks back down under the blanket. He doesn't say anything to me, and that feels worse than if he would've insulted me back.

I give up and end up staring up at the ceiling in the dark.

"I don't want anything to happen to you," it comes out as a whisper, so soft that I barely catch it.

"You shouldn't worry. I can take care of myself."

"Even so, I still worry, and as you can see my reasoning is completely selfish."

"What do you mean by that?" I ask but he doesn't answer. I don't push the topic any further and bury myself into the blankets until I'm so far gone I can't even dream about killing Audrey, and losing Faunas, and watching as Ashley gets drug from our shared sleeping bag.

_Noah Daniels District 2 Mentor_

I watch the terrain sweep away from the windows. This is my thirteenth time on a Capitol train, and I'm still mesmerized by the smoothness, and the fast pace. The train ride is usually my favorite part of the games. I get to learn about my tributes, and they get to know each other before they're placed in a training room where the thoughts to kill override their want for social interaction. Here it feels like we're in another world, and everything is okay.

I still remember the first time I rode on this train, twelve years ago. I was a mere 16 years old, and it was when I had gotten to know Aeron for the first time. It was on the train ride to the Capitol when we sealed our strong alliance. I had told her everything, about my mother's death, about losing my first love and not knowing whether she was dead or alive. I told her how dedicated I was to my sister Elle. Aeron smiled and listened to every word I said, because she has never big on spilling secrets herself, but that night she did. I remembered her vomiting spells in the bathroom.

_"Yes, it's exactly what you think, Noah."_

I don't understand why yesterday, of all days, I had to be tortured by seeing little Persia, who looks like Aeron and looks at me with disgust. Certainly she's inevitably seen my most 'famous' scene where I go crazy and stab my district partner, and most important ally in the stomach. The images are so blurred in my mind, I can barely recall it. All I remember is seeing a clip where Elle was being held hostage and something inside me snapped. Something inside that wanted to fight from the beginning when Elle cried to me, and I accidentally ripped that button of her coat. At that point it had become Elle's life or Aeron's. Too bad in the end that clip turned out to be fake.

The only thing that keeps me mentally stable is the training academies. I throw everything I have into them and being able to churn out tribute after tribute. At night I go home to my wife, and my nephew and though it's a wonderful time, it's when I must face what I have truly lost.

And the problem is that Persia isn't the only child suffering from the loss of her mother. The fact is that everything is all said and done and I'm left with neither Aeron or my sister.

The thought makes me feel as though somebody has wrapped their cold fingers around my heart. My sister had been the prime reasoning for me to come home. I saved my self so I could save her, and in the end I have the fame of being the first victor, and she has cold blood and a now orphaned son.

I feel so selfish, and the damned Capitol is to blame for this wreck.

_You don't mess with President Scarlett Snow, Noah. More victors, more academies. I want competition. I want animosity between the districts. You're the poster child of this Noah. Don't let me down. You don't want to let me down._

I squeeze my eyes shut and try to expel the memory.

"Noah?"

"What?" I snap.

"Sorry, I just… wanted to know if you were alright."

I turn around and see always-eager Memor. He holds up his arms in a symbol of peace. I sigh with frustration and wave him off.

"I'm fine."

"Okay good. I was just wondering what our plans are, or what strategy are we going after. Are we supposed to ally with Districts 1 or 4, or is there a different approach? What about Estelle? Should I take her as an ally or…"

I let my head fall back against the seat. Memor is giving me a headache.

"We'll talk about it later."

"Seriously? There's not much time Noah. I want to be prepared."

"Not right now Memor," my voice growing louder.

He huffs like a pettish child, and slinks away like a dog with its tail between its legs. This is the second time I've rejected Memor, and I'm probably looking like a terrible mentor right now. Normally I would be talking strategy. I would be trying to bring my tributes home, but I'm shaken up right now. Ever since I saw Persia.

A little voice in my head tells me that I need to pull it together. If I want to keep my family, I need to do my job. I promise myself to make things better tomorrow.

_Athea DiMae_

_Ring._

Please pick up.

_Ring. _

Please, please, please.

_Ring._

Micah pick up the phone.

_Ring._

The final tone rings out and still nobody answers. I wait for the answering machine, but nothing happens. The phone just keeps ringing, waiting for a person who is not there to pick up. After ten or so rings I come to the realization that my attempts are futile and I slam the phone into the receiver.

Tenner looks at me with sympathy in his eyes. Even twelve years later, President Marcus, who is getting up in age, still has Tenner as his right hand man.

I can remember Tenner calling Lucian and me out the day we stepped off that hovercraft, and leading us to our new home. He's the reason we were saved in the first place. He had seen our top eight family interviews on television and had called Marcus up to help. Marcus had first refused, saying that it was not District 13's place to interfere with the Capitol. Fortunately, Tenner did not back down. He's the only reason we're here today.

I owe Tenner a lot, but I've given him nothing even though he'll do, and has done anything for me. Despite being five years older than me Tenner has been pursuing me since I entered adulthood. At one point I gave in, and he ended up buying me a ring, and proposing marriage when things began to get serious. Of course it's obvious what happened with that.

"It just kept ringing," I tell him.

"Are you sure he still lives there?"

I shake my head. I have no idea what's happened to him the last few years. For all I know I'll never be able to speak to him again.

Tenner's phone begins to ring and he excuses himself to take the call. I slump to the ground in defeat. I don't want to complain about my life here, but I'm longing for home. I feel like only part of me is in this; the other part is still fifteen-years-old and wishing for something magnificent to happen. Unconsciously, I find the bulging area of skin on my right calf. There's nothing left there but a hideous scar.

I should be happy though. I have a family, I have a place to live, I have a job, and most importantly I do not have to worry about the Hunger Games. Though even as these thoughts flow through my head, a desire is still burning deep inside my heart.

Tenner returns a few moments later. He has a grave look on his face.

"Athea, Marcus wants to see you."

"What's wrong?" I ask.

"I'm not allowed to disclose that."

Suddenly my mind is back to last night when Lucian said he had 'selfish reasons'. Maybe I shouldn't have dared to defy the rules.

Tenner leads me to his office and stands outside as I walk through the door.

"Ah yes Athea. There is somebody on the phone for you."

I grasp the phone in excitement. It has to be Micah.

Private Messaging +"Hello," I say, my voice a bit breathless from sudden anticipation.

It's not Micah who answers me though. Instead it's somebody else I haven't heard from in a long time. Somebody who controlled my fate like I was a puppet guided by her strings.

"Hello Miss DiMae, or isn't it Mrs. Sparx now? I'm sorry I never sent you a wedding gift, but I've been oh-so-busy the past few years."

"Hello Miss Snow, somehow I don't believe you're calling to catch up on idle chit-chat."

Perhaps the strings haven't been cut.

_Noah Daniels _

I round up Estelle and Memor first thing in the morning during breakfast. Memor looks surprised at my new attitude, but doesn't say anything as he slides jelly across his toast. A quiet Memor is much easier to deal with.

"Let's get down to business," I say. "First things first: alliance or not?"

Memor glances to Estelle, a wide grin spread on his face, and Estelle rolls her eyes at him and looks back to me.

"What do you propose, Mr. Daniels? I mean, sorry, actually I meant Noah, it just, you know, slipped my mind."

Estelle, always eager to please, just like Memor. An attribute that is often overlooked when finding a tribute, but something that is so important, that it can shift the game when the time comes. A tribute who is eager to please will follow their mentor's word. They won't run into situations impulsively. Though as I look at Memor, I'm thinking he might prove me wrong on that.

"I've never had a tribute win who wasn't allied, it's just easier." Of course alliances never end well, but I don't want to mention that right now. I turn my attention to Estelle. "I can tell that you count Memor as a bit of an idiot, but there's no doubt the boy has skill, and perhaps he can bring out a softer side in you Estelle."

"Ha! He can try."

"Oh come on, Estelle! You heard the boss; two heads are better than one. We can get far, and don't count me out yet. You'll find yourself to be a new girl when you're around me." He folds his arms acrossed his chest confidently and tilts his chair back. However, it wobbles beneath him and Memor slams forward and smacks his knee off the table.

Estelle erupts in laughter.

"Smooth move Memor. You should save that for the arena though."

"Alright, let's get back on topic." I cut in. "You also need to decide then if you're going to ally with District 1 and 4."

"It depends what they're tributes are like," Estelle says, and Memor shakes his head at her while rubbing his sore knee.

"You didn't watch the reaping repeats last night? And you call yourself a career. Tsk tsk."

"Shut up, just because I'm not a total Hunger Games nerd doesn't mean I'm not deadly. They're coming on later today anyways."

"Sassy, just the way I like them," Memor winks at her, and renders Estelle speechless.

"You're not helping yourself Memor," I say.

"No, he's not," Estelle sighs in frustration, "but it'll be more beneficial to work together like you said Noah, even if Memor is a home-schooled career who can't even balance himself on a chair."

Memor just laughs her insult off, and Estelle joins him. For a second I'm lost in the fun of the train ride that involves people coming together for a cause, and for a second I forget that I might lose them both, and there's nothing in the world I can do to stop that.

**A/N: So I don't know who is going to be in the next chapter, but I think definitely District 1, and maybe District 3 or 5.**

**Okay time for me to shamelessly promote (you'll find these in my favorites):**

**_This is War - _This is a collab. I've been working on since early August, and chapters are finally being posted, so if you're interested go read and review and I'll love you forever.  
**

**And then there's three people who are currently writing stories that are canon to my last story and this one, and they've all been so kind and wonderful and whatnot.**

**_The 174th Hunger Games: Crimson Virtues - A Velvet Nightmare _(I'm pretty sure she still needs tributes, so go submit!)  
**

**_What Once Was: The 8th Hunger Games - Retromother_  
**

**_The 62nd Annual Hunger Games: The Birth of Hope - The Perfumed Thorn_**

**So yeah, if you haven't read their stories, you're missing out.**

**Leave me a REVIEW please, and have a fabulous weekend!**

**-Kayla**


	8. I Am Tenacious

**A/N: Hey everyone, I'm back again! I stayed home last night and this is what came out of it. **_  
_

**I had some errors when it came to a few things. For example, Kain's father is supposed to be mentor, but it's almost impossible to have won the games and have seventeen-year-old kid, so I changed things around because these little things bother me a lot.**

_Pearl Evenstone (District 1 Mentor)_

"So this is a surprise," I comment looking over the two tributes. The boy, Glisten Orton, is someone I know because he's been to training, His partner, who has introduced herself as Blush Beaumont, has never done any career training so I'm baffled as to how she got here in the first place. We have rules on volunteering and although they are not as strict as District 2, usually we can keep things in order. I probably should have watched the reapings, but I was... busy.

"I'm guessing you're referring the me being here. I assure you though, Pearl, that though I have not been to training academies, I have had more training than most of arrogant careers that have entered and died because of they're impulsive nature."

And who does this girl think she is?

"Are you insulting my tributes?" I challenge.

"If factual knowledge is insulting to you, then yes I am."

So she's a smart mouth too? This girl needs put in her place. If she doesn't respect me, then she needs to know that her death is inevitable.

"I'm your mentor, and so I suggest you try to stay on good terms with me. It could mean the difference between life or death for you."

Blush's eyes narrow under my comment, and she walks straight up to me.. Blush is incredibly short, and barely reaches my shoulder height, but I can tell that she does not let this hold her back. Large eyes, petite frame, and light skin should be features of a soft girl, but her darkening eyes are betraying that.

"Are you threatening me?" She hisses under her breath. Suddenly my brain is telling me to back down, that this girl is some kind of danger. However, Pearl Evenstone does not back down. I did not win the games by backing down. I won the games by killing my boyfriend because I wanted to go home. Blush can try to play these intimidation games with me, but they aren't going to get her anywhere.

"No threats, just promises," I say back.

"Don't make promises you can't keep," she says backing down and turning away. She waves her hand mentioning something about going to bed.

I glance over at Glisten as he watches her leave. One would imagine a look of contempt because he's going to have to face this wretched girl, but instead I catch admiration in his eyes. He turns around and sees me staring at him, and immediately tries to compose himself.

"She's something else, isn't she?" He says.

"Do you know her?" I ask like it's a crime.

He clears his throat, and smooths his hair down. Then he shrugs his shoulders in response and says, "I don't even know where to begin."

"How about we begin at the beginning," I say sarcastically.

Glisten doesn't take kindly to my words which I deduce from the look he's giving me. I had high hopes for Glisten, but now I'm thinking he's no better than the girl. They're both up on their high horses and could use a knocking down. I raise my eyebrows at him in a 'go ahead and tell your story'. His face doesn't relax, but he begins speaking anyways.

"Blush and I are apart of the underground crime network in District 1. Her father, Onyx Beaumont, is the top man there, and my father, Shine Orton, well he used to be pretty close to the top. However he decided to take Blush's step-mother to bed, and I guess Onyx found out. Long story short my father is dead now, killed by the only girl I had ever cared about."

Glisten looks towards Blush's door and I see it again; the longing. This boy is caught up inside a web and he's not doing much to get himself free. I need to set him straight. His only hope of winning is if he disregards these feelings now.

"You need to listen to me Glisten: you're in the Hunger Games now. There is no saving anybody else. If you want to get home, you're going to need to forget about this girl who obviously doesn't care that she betrayed your trust. Use this as a jumping off point for making her your enemy. She is your enemy now."

Glisten shakes his head, clearly frustrated by my words. I watch as he tangles himself deeper into the web that is Blush Beaumont.

"I'm going to bed," he says gruffly and marches off to his room.

I roll my eyes at his sulky behavior. I pick up my communicator and immediately send a message to Noah, the District 2 mentor. We are known for setting up alliances between our tributes, and I need to let him know what I have to offer.

_I have a pair of crazies. One has the ability to kill without second thought, and the other one is lusting after her like a dog. Too much to explain now. Talk to you at the Capitol. -Pearl_

_December Blackwood (District 7)_

Apparently my district partner's uncle is our mentor. At first I was thinking that it wasn't fair. Of course a family member is going to favor their relative coming home, but after seeing them interact I'm sure I'll be the favored tribute, if either of us are.

I hear the yelling from inside my room where I have decided to stake out. I have to admit I'm feeling extremely lonely because I am away from home and have a one-way ticket to the Capitol.

I mindlessly twirl the ring that is settled on my finger, given to me by my father. It was my mother's wedding ring, clearly my father's greatest possession, and although I never knew my mother it means a lot to me too.

I hear the sound of a door slam and I peek out my bedroom door in curiousity. Kain's footsteps echo down the hallway and he slams his fist into one of the walls, leaving a dent. He catches my eyes and immediately goes red like he's embarrassed with showing his anger in front of me. At least he has some manners.

"Sorry," he mumbles and runs off to his room.

Our mentor, Conall follows him out a little later. He ignores eye contact with me.

"So you're the mentor?" I say sarcastically.

He turns back around to face me, leering. Oh Ember why can't you keep your mouth shut?

"Yes, and you're the tribute? Or are you some Avox that didn't get their tongue cut out yet? If not I could arrange for that."

"Sadly no. You're going to have to deal with me."

"You're the one who's not going back home," he says as he marches away. I notice the bottle of alcohol in his one hand. Classy.

_Chrys Dunois District 11 Mentor_

Here I am, for another lovely year of mentoring. Another year where I watch my tributes fall mercilessly. Right now I'm the only victor District 11 has after I won the sixth annual games, when I was eighteen years old. I'm sure the Capitol wanted to make me think that I was going to be okay, but they tried to take me away, just like they took Faunas.

Let's just say they messed with the wrong girl, and they weren't happy when I emerged as a victor. In fact, they tried to accuse me of cheating, which of course there was no case to prove such accusations. I had won fair and square. Even so, they wouldn't give my district or me my Victor benefits. District 11 threatened to rebel though, and finally I received what I deserved, serves them right for trying to mess with a Dunois.

I was a ruthless killer, nimble and light on my feet. District 11 helped sponsor me. There was one night when I was out of water, and my district sent me some when I had been on the brink of dying. I essentially had no help from the 'mentor' I was assigned, and my district partner was slaughtered in the bloodbath. I went alone, without a single ally. I stayed among the trees, and picked off a few tributes from up high. In the end it was I against the District 1 female.

I almost lost. At one point I was lying in my own bloody puddle. I was weak because the odds had been stacked against me, and I hadn't eaten in days. I was ready to die, and join my brother, but that's when I realized they couldn't have what they wanted again. Some people go into the games and their fire burns out, but mine grew so intense that I struggled to my knees, and put all my strength into one last knife throw; my only chance for salvation. I watched it sink into her forehead, and she dropped immediately.

Boom.

One last cannon fire and I passed out instantly. I didn't awake for almost a week. My injuries had been so intense that they had to induce me into a deep coma. Luckily I got to keep all my limbs, but I have some nerve damage in my arms and legs that can be crippling at times, and nobody has dared to see the scars that litter my back, stomach, and chest.

I shouldn't be alive, but I am, and I'm ready to make it worth it. My struggle won't be in vain. Information has been passed, and I know there's hope in District 13 to take down the Capitol infrastructure, but for now I need to be the compliant mentor.

"So Cherokee, Alexis…"

"You can call me Kee."

"Alright Kee, and Alexis you need to tell me what your strengths are. We will start from there and start developing a strategy, and possible alliances. We will try to combat your weaknesses the best we can. I know it may seem bleak because you're from District 11, but don't count yourselves out. If you lose hope now you'll never make it out alive."

Kee nods with confidence, soaking up every word like a sponge, but Alexis moves uncomfortably in the chair and looks down at her clasped hands.

"Alexis?"

"I don't want to do this," her voice is soft and rings like a bell.

"Darling, nobody wants to do this," I say bluntly.

She shakes her head. "I can't. I can't… kill. I won't," the tears form instantly on her face.

"You can Alexis, when you go into the arena things will change."

But still she disagrees with me. She doesn't want to kill. She tells me she's a healer, which is a great asset to have, but not if it's on its own. Everyone loves the sweet girls who have healing hands, but it's not going to win her the games.

I try to convince her, not wanting to write her off as a hopeless case, but she just stands up from her seat, excuses herself in the most polite manner, and wanders off to her room.

Kee is still here though. I will try to sway Alexis, but Cherokee looks like the kind of guy I can try to get home to District 11. He's built like a strong District 11 laborer and will fair well in physical contact. Plus he's eager. He wants to win and that's the drive I need.

"How old are you Kee?"

"Seventeen."

"Don't you go to school?" I asked, puzzled.

He shakes his head in disappointment.

"I can't go to school because I have to work because I need to take care of my mother. She's sick, well the doctor says she's sick in the head, and the only way for me to pay for the caretaker is if I work full time."

I nod my head with sympathy. I know what it means to be going through a rough time. Kee knows loss, and he knows hard work, but most importantly he knows that sometimes you have to make sacrifices to get what you need.

"Kee, I'm going to do everything I can to send you home, mark my words. You have a chance at this, and I want you to know that I trust you."

"What about Alexis?" He asks.

"Alexis will make her own decisions, and if she decides she wants help I'll be here for her then."

"Okay," Kee looks unsatisfied though.

"Listen," I say as I clasp his face in my hands, "worry about you. Your mother needs you."

He nods in understanding and I release him.

"We'll talk more tomorrow, for now it's best that you get some sleep."

He acknowledges my words with a steady nod and I turn to go to my quarters. As soon as I'm half-asleep in my bed a loud buzz comes from my nightstand.

I curse in irritation, and reach for the communicator that has often interrupted my sleep. All the mentors are required to carry one in order to provide communication between us. Usually two of the boys who are mentoring 9 and 12, which means they're District 2 victors, are making obscene comments or betting on whose tribute will die first. It makes me sick, and I'm ready to chew them out, when I notice it's a private message from Mags.

_We're having a mentor meeting tomorrow. Just thought I'd remind you. Need to talk to you after xoxoxo_

Miss Magdalena Marin is my idol here. She's the mentor I wish I 'd had when I came here. We're about the same age, but Mags is wise beyond her years, and won her games when she was about fourteen or fifteen years old.

The fact that she needs to talk to me is causing a stir inside my stomach. Could this be what I've been waiting for?

I try to go back to sleep, but the excitement keeps me up a little longer. I finally find sleep, but it's not deep and I dream all night about blood, knives, and my younger brother.

**A/N: Some of you may have seen the poll on my profile. It's just a popularity poll. You can wait to vote until you learn more about the tributes, so no rush. Please leave me a REVIEW, and enjoy the rest of your weekend.**

**-Kayla**


	9. I Am Distressed

**A/N: Hey! Long time no update :D I'm sorry guys, I've just been super busy. Of course I've gotten myself sick and had to stay in tonight, so that's lucky for you guys as I've typed up this chapter. I don't know if I'll update again this week, but if I don't it'll probably be another two week wait since my birthday is next friday and I'll be gone for the weekend.**

_Adrianne Finch (District 3 Mentor)_

It's my first year of mentoring and my tributes are a pair of siblings. As interesting as that may sound for the Capitol citizens, it's going to be no easy matter to handle them myself. I am responsible for dealing with the emotional crisis that is sure to emerge, and I am not one to handle emotions well. Being the so-called 'newbie' is going to set me at even more of a disadvantage because I am being watched from all sides. They say you can leave the arena, but you'll never win the game. I am a firm believer in that.

I watch the two talk quietly, the boy Gig is clearly more distressed than his sister. Charcoal is one year my senior, something I should have expected. I was asked in a pre-reaping interview if it made me feel intimidated, and the answer was simple. The arena ages you many years, and although Charcoal is physically older than me, I have seen and experienced what she has yet to. I am their mentor and young as I may be, I have proved myself successful. Now all that's left is to prove it to everyone else and earn myself a place among the other victors, which will in turn will keep Scarlett Snow at bay and keep my family and I safe.

I push through the door and approach my two new tributes. They look at me, Gig seems a bit surprise and Charcoal looks aloof as always.

"I'm Adrianne, for those of you who may have missed it. I was last year's victor, and District 3's first."

"Of course we saw you. We had to watch it," Charcoal says coolly. "The Capitol doesn't allow us to skip the showing, as much as we may detest watching."

I give her a wry smile and turn back to Gig who stares at me in amazement, unlike his sister he doesn't cover himself up very well.

"Problem?" I ask him.

"I just… I just didn't expect you to look like this."

"The camera changes you," I reply as I take a seat next to them. Short, skinny, and frail doesn't really scream 'victor' and now that I think of it, that probably helped me out in the end. The problem with television is that they throw you in fancy outfits and powder your face in make-up until you appear a certain way, fit for television. My small frame and mousy brown hair that's currently pulled back does not compare to 'Adrianne Finch, our 13th Annual Hunger Games Victor'. Now I'm just Addi the mentor.

"So, first things first," I've decided to start with a quick overview of what to expect at the Capitol and probable angles we can explore to get the Capitolians on our side, and maybe receive sponsoring but Gig rudely interrupts before I can even begin.

"I've already decided! I'm going to do whatever I can to save my sister," he looks at her even though he's speaking to me. Charcoal doesn't give anything away except a slight narrowing of her eyes.

"No, that is improbable. By saving you, I'll save two of my siblings. Don't be silly Gig and think this out more reasonably."

I don't know what Charcoal means by 'saving two siblings' but I'm not ready to deal with this right now. Before Gig opens his mouth to speak I take the moment of silence to jump in.

"We don't need to discuss this now. I hope that both of you will go in and compete to your abilities. Now I expect you to begin thinking of how you will gain sponsors. District 3 is often overlooked, but luckily for you, they'll be watching this year," and they can thank me for that, but I don't say that aloud.

Charcoal is quiet and for once Gig keeps his mouth shut. I'm starting to think that this mentoring will be no easy business. It's one thing to make it out yourself, but how do you control aspects that are out of your reach and bring another back as well? For once in my life I have an inkling of respect for 'the Great Noah Daniels'.

Before I can proceed with the conversation, our escort Adonis comes barging through the doors, carrying his new air of sophistication. When I was in the games last year, he was a grumpy, moody fool who bluntly referred to my district partner and I as 'hopeless cases,' while complaining that since he had been an escort since the beginning, he should therefore receiving the honors of escorting those from District 2. All in all I hate the man. Adonis is supposed to be the God of beauty, but all our Adonis exudes is wretchedness.

"Alright, I expect you two should get ready for dinner. Go get some better clothes on, we'll be arriving at the Capitol shortly afterwards, and it's to your advantage that you look your very best."

They both look at me as though asking for permission. I can't help but smile inside at the fact that these two are already looking to me, and I wave the off with a flick of my hand.

Adonis watches them leave and then turns to me.

"Addi, you should go as well. Even though you will not have to go into the arena it would be good to keep yourself in good health."

"Fuck off," I say to him before standing up and sauntering over to the exit. "And it's Miss Adrianne Finch to you."

_James Whitecover District 4_

"Are we going to be allying with Districts 1 and 2 this year?"

I ask because District 4 has been indecisive about whether or not they ally up with 1 and 2. Sure District 4 has a training academy, but our District mentor, Mags has never exhibited enthusiasm for churning out volunteers and making them victors. My father on the other hand is and he has stated the importance of Career alliances. I don't know how I'm going to feel about the Careers this year, but some years they are bloody and brutal. I don't really want to make friendly company with them if that's the case, but I know two or three heads will be better than just myself.

I look over at my district partner, Telise. Her mouth is set in a hard line, and she expresses a look that reminds me of someone who has eaten something sour. I don't know how she feels about all this, but she could be one of those 'bloody and brutal characters' for all I know. She has barely spoken to me since we boarded the train, but all in all she seems at least polite.

Mags tilts her head at me in curiosity. Eight years ago at the age of fifteen Mags became District 4's first victor. In the span of eight years Mags has gone from driven front-runner to a woman who seems to have a few loose screws. I don't want to write her off as crazy because I know she's been through a lot. Between facing the arena on her own, and then losing almost all 14 tributes in the past few years I'm sure she's not the girl she was before being reaped.

"It's important that you do what feels right," is all she says.

I don't know what's right and what's wrong. She's the mentor, so she should tell me.

"I don't want to ally with them," Telise finally speaks for the first time. "I know my father and trainer would want me to, but it doesn't feel right."

Mags smiles at her, and reaches for Telise's hand.

"Remember to follow your instincts, it's greater than any weapon you could every possess. It's the thing that could bring you home. Your choice may not seem right at this moment, but your decision may prove to be worthwhile later."

Telise smiles back and I feel myself falling against the back of my chair. I cross my arms over my chest. Obviously I know who the favorite is going to turn about to be. Maybe I will be unable to count on my district partner, let alone my own mentor. I can hear my father's words echoing in my head. In my moment of weakness I listen to him.

"You can do what you want Telise," I say, "but I don't have a death wish."

How is it that my father is no where near me, but still has control over my actions?

"James…" Mags turns to me.

"Call me Jet."

"I will consider it. Now James, I see in your face the look of a boy who is being forced to be a man. I hope you will follow in Telise's steps and think about where your loyalties lie.

Where my loyalties lie? They do not lay with any of the 23 other people here. In fact, they aren't even beginning to lie with the woman who calls herself a mentor.

_Fîona O'Connor District 9_

"So how much did they have to pay you to get you to come mentor little ole District 9?" Dillion asks picking up a bottle from the bar and swirling its contents around.

"Dillion, put that down," our mentor says sternly, but Dillion ignores him.

It's clear that my district partner is a huge oaf. I watch as his pops the cap off the bottle and takes a long drink.

"Dillion!" Our mentor rises from his seat and grasps the bottle in his hand. In response Dillion releases the bottle and makes a shot for our mentor's head. However, our mentor is faster and grabs Dillion's wrist before he can ever make contact. He then throws Dillion back against the bar, causing the bottles on the counter to shake violently. One falls over and rolls onto the floor, crashing into a million glass shards.

"Listen here," he says in an overly calming tone. "I have a debt to repay and you," he shoves Dillion back against the bar again, "are not going to make an ass of yourself and ruin that for me."

He releases his grip from Dillion and I watch him sway unsteadily.

"To answer your question, I get paid nothing to mentor District 9," he says sitting back down and taking a swig off coffee. "I chose to be here."

I stare at him in awe. I have no idea what his name is, or what District he is originally from, but to come to 9 seems unheard of. My best guess is that he's from a Career district as well, which is even more mind-boggling.

He looks over at me, and immediately I turn my gaze away.

"I'm Fîona," I squeak.

"I know. I'm Boltone," he holds out his hand and I take it.

"What District are you from?" I inquire.

"Two," he says bluntly.

I'm about to ask another nosey question, but Boltone points out the window and tells us to look. That's when I see it in all its shining glory; the Capitol. It's exactly how I pictured it, and so much more. I run over to the window and press my hands up against the glass, leaning forward to get the best look possible. Enormous buildings grace the area, built to a standard that must almost equal perfection. I had under-estimated its grandeur. As I'm staring out the window I can hardly believe that this place can exist when we have the poor field areas of District 9, where our houses are the size of small shacks and a lot of the land is barren. Crossing into the Capitol is like crossing into a new world, one that I can't help but love even though I know evil lies within.

Dillion comes over and joins me in my marveling. He doesn't outwardly express his astonishment, but I know he has never seen anything like this before.

"It's something else," he says and I nod my head in agreement. He sighs and leans against the window. "My brother sent me a letter home when he was in the Games. He mostly talked about how grand it was here, back then I wanted to go so badly."

I turn in shock.

"Your brother?"

"Yeah," he says placing his palm against the smooth glass. "He died in the very first games."

I can't remember a Lightwood from the First Hunger Games. Sure you hear names like, Noah Daniels and Aeron Swann, Lucian Sparx and Athea DiMae, and nobody could forget little Ashley Henns or the spitfire that was Dorien Oakfree, but never a Ligthwood.

"I'm sorry," I reply.

Dillion shakes his head.

"Don't be, it just sucks that I only get to see it under these circumstances."

The train suddenly flies under a tunnel, bathing the car in darkness. When we emerge on the other side I see masses of people lined up outside.

In the cluster their over-the-top fashions and body modifications look… normal, unlike when our escort comes to District 9 and sticks out like a sore thumb, here it is Dillion and I who do not belong.

They wave wildly to us. I don't know what the proper social protocol is so I turn to Dillion for advice, only to find he has disappeared. They smile and wave crazily and I slowly lift my hand and do a small awkward wave back. The screams of the Capitolians break through the walls of the train car and I have the sudden urge to run. All I can think is how barbaric this all is and I back up from the window.

A cold hand touches my shoulder and I gasp and turn around in shock to see Boltone. He edges me away and takes my spot at the window, waving merrily and giving them the first smile I've ever seen him show. I want to tell him thank you, but I just run off into my room. I'm suddenly realizing just what has happened. I have been reaped and those Capitolians, no matter how childishly naive they are, are rooting for my death.

This city is going to eat me alive.

**A/N: Hmm... so who do you guys want to hear from next? Let me know! Also reminding you all there's a favorites poll on my profile. That's about it I think.**

**Have a fantastic weekend. I hope you all have been well. Leave me a review please :) or a PM, whatever makes you happier.**

**-Kayla**


	10. Controlling the Strings

**A/N: Hey I'm back already for a short chapter. Remember that phone call Athea got from President Snow? Well you're about to find out what she wants.**

_Athea DiMae (District 13)_

"I request your presence as soon as possible," the chilling voice of President Snow drifts through the speaker as though she is standing right next to me.

"What?"

"We have matters that need discussed. I know you may be curious as to what but I cannot disclose such information over the phone. I know how nosey that damn Marcus is, and I wish this to be kept between us for the time being."

"Okay," I try to form words, but they aren't making it out of my mouth. Am I going to the Capitol?

"Wonderful, I already have a hovercraft dispensed for your location. It should be arriving in the next few hours."

The next few hours? I'm about to argue with her, but my instinct stops me. One does not disagree with President Snow. I don't want to go so willingly though. So I decide to try and bargain.

"I ask for one thing," I say coolly.

"And what would that be?"

"I want to visit District 3."

The other line is silent, and I can hear the booming throb of my heartbeat in my ears.

"I imagine this is for your brother?" She asks.

"Yes," I answer.

"Very well then. My answer is no."

My first thought was that she had agreed and then her disapproval sinks in. I decide to fight back.

"Then I will not be coming."

"Athea," she laughs lightly, "you're in no position to deny my offer."

When I don't say anything she continues.

"You may be across Panem, but rest assured I know how to find you. I know how to twist your emotions until you crack. Now if you want what's best for you and your family, and I'm sure any mother would, you will come to the Capitol. I have urgent business for you."

How do I deny the request? I don't believe in Snow bluffing, she doesn't need to bluff. She has so much power in her hands that with the snap of her fingers she could probably have my entire family taken… and killed.

"Okay," I say because that's the only thing I have.

"Good, I'll be seeing you soon."

Click.

I do not relinquish the phone from my ear yet because my mind has left my body and is now fluttering around inside some made-up world that includes me being executed by Miss Snow herself. What could she possibly want with me? Haven't I kept quiet and obeyed her conditions. Well besides calling my brother, but she doesn't know about that.

"Athea?" I turn to see Tenner. He looks concerned. I finally realize I am gripping the phone and I set it down and take a deep breath.

"I'm okay," I whisper and I walk right past him and out the door. I need to see Lucian, and I need to see my children.

"I'm going with you," is the first thing he says once I'm able to explain the situation. As always he is adamant.

"You can't," I say as I throw random articles of clothing into my bag. A few hours does not give me much time to put myself together for cross-Panem travel, but I'll have to make do.

"So you expect me to just stay here while you go off to talk to the devil herself?"

"No," I tell him, "but I don't know what else to do."

"You can't go by yourself! Why didn't you say no?"

"Lucian, are you telling me that I should say no to the woman who has the willingness and resources to kill us all? The woman sent us here and she can certainly bring us back."

Lucian is quiet because he knows I'm right. He knows that Snow has us in her perfectly manicured claws, and there is nothing he can do about it.

"I just…" he begins, but I stop him.

"You need to be here for them," I say gesturing to the living room where three little heads are staring at the television, completely oblivious to what's going on around them. "They need a parent."

Lucian plops down on the bed defeated.

"I can't believe I'm giving into your demands again," he says.

"That's because you're smart," I smile, and he chuckles lightly.

"Where are you going?" Mara asks her arms crossed like she's some kind of worried mother. I would laugh if the situation I was about to get myself in weren't so dire.

Alida grabs onto my pants, her eyes looking glassy. I place my hand on her head and ruffle her hair in an attempt to comfort her. I haven't left this place since I first stepped foot after leaving the arena. I have never not been here for any of my children, and I can see Alida is not comprehending this very well.

"I'll be back soon. I have something important I have to do," I tell her. She nods her head, but tears begin to stream down her face anyways.

"Can we come?" Mara asks and I shake my head.

"You need to stay here and watch your father for me," I look over at Lucian who is standing awkwardly in the doorframe.

"I want to comeeeee," she whines.

"Mara, please. Now come and say good-bye." I lean down and Alida finds her way into my arms immediately. Mara resigns her pouting to join her sister.

I look over at Faunas who is staring wide-eyed at me, his crayon clasped tightly in his little hand. My first thought is that he knows something is going on. I don't know how he would, but nonetheless I make my way over to him, and kneel next to him.

"I'll be home soon. I promise."

"Okay," he whispers and I smile at him in an attempt to provide reassurance. "Bye Mama."

I step back from him. What if this is my last time here? What if she decides to off me? I take a deep breath and attempt to stabilize my emotions. One should not worry about those things they cannot change.

Lucian escorts me to the hangar that lies on the top floor of the underground compound of District 13. We do not speak, but every time I make eye contact with him I can tell he's struggling to accept this.

The hovercraft is already there when I arrive and a man dressed in a Peacekeeper outfit stands impatiently outside the door.

"Let's go," he says gruffly but I tell him I need a second. I can see the anger on his face at my refusal. I'm sure he's not used to being told no without at least being able to back hand the offender. However, this isn't Scarlett Snow's Panem, this is District 13 and I will not tolerate his superiority complex.

"I'll see you soon," I promise, but I'm not even sure if I'll be able to keep it.

Lucian is silent, but he nods his head slightly.

"I'll find a way to get a hold of you as soon as I land."

Another small nod.

I don't want to say good-bye so instead I climb up the stairs to the entrance of the hovercraft.

"Athea!" He calls and I turn to face him.

"I…. I love you," he yells over the whirling engine of the hovercraft.

"And I love you," I say back, and then I climb in through the entrance of the transportation that may be flying me to my death.

**A/N: ****We'll find out what happens a bit later, but until then we will be returning back to our tributes! What do you guys think is going to happen? Please leave me a review! **

**-Kayla**


	11. Welcome to the Capitol

**A/N: HI! How are you all? I'm sorry I've been gone for so long, but college keeps me extremely busy. I don't know if I'm going on another hiatus again but I'll keep you all posted!**

_Matt Vencedor District 5_

"I don't want to ally with you," Jen says.

She turns away from me and sips at her glass of water. I get the hint she wants to be left alone, but I'm not ready to give up yet.

"Why?" I ask.

"Don't take it personally," she says.

I pull into the seat across from her, and she continues sipping from her glass and stares languidly out of the window.

"Come on Jen. Alliances are important," especially in my strategy plan. It requires the use of alliances, and not just any alliance. I need to recruit people like Jen. Underdogs.

"That's a matter of your opinion."

"Then what do you expect to do?"

She shrugs her shoulders. I can tell she doesn't want to talk to me, or anyone for that matter.

"I'm just trying to help you," I say.

She smiles, and shakes her head at me like I just told her a joke.

Before she can answer, that is if she was even going to answer, I see a man appear in the doorway. He could be my possible savior in this situation.

"Ruffes!"

"Matt, leave the girl alone," he says.

Ruffes is District 5's mentor. He's been mentoring since he won the third Hunger Games nine years, and is well known, especially in our district. He recently got married to another District 5 victor, Evan Lawrence.

"I just wanted you two to know that we'll be arriving any second now. After we exit the train you'll be taken to your permanent living quarters from now until the games start. Don't get settled too quickly, however, as you know Chariot Rides are later this evening, and you're required to be there."

Ruffes seems like a no-nonsense kind of guy. I find that it may be beneficial for me to tell him my games strategy, and then maybe he can help me get some alliances, or even convince Jen that allying with me would be her best option.

I run after Ruffes, who is halfway down the long corridor before I finally reach him.

"Hey, Ruffes!"

"What is it Matt?"

"It's about Jen… and my strategy… and I need you to help me."

"I'll be glad to help you, but now isn't the best time. We are going to be at the Capitol soon. We can talk about this later."

He turns to keep walking, but I urge him to stop.

"I need Jen to be in my alliance, but she said no. Could you please talk some sense into her for me? Let her know how important it is to have alliances."

"That isn't necessarily true," Ruffes says. "Sometimes alliances allow you to get betrayed. Haven't you ever seen the career alliances."

"I wasn't planning on betraying her," I say. At least I wasn't planning on betraying her right away, I can't promise that the time won't come later.

"Matt, it's not my job to force my tributes to go against their will. If Jennifer doesn't want an alliance then she doesn't have to be in one."

"What do you mean?" I ask. "You're the mentor. You're suppose to keep us alive."

"There's only so much I can do. I can't force another tribute to do something. When it comes down to it, it's Jennifer's decision and you should respect that. Now I will say this again; we will talk about this later."

I mutter an okay and walk back to my compartment. If Ruffes isn't going to help me, then I'm going to have to figure something else out.

_Aurora Eventide District 8_

The train is pulling into station when I get the first glimpse of our mentor. His appearance is shocking.

His face is carved to bits, as though somebody painted his face with a knife. The scars slither down his neck and appear on the flesh of his arms. I remember him from an earlier games. His name is Kenst Argant. There was a lot of controversy surrounding him the year he one. Some say he had an unfair advantage. Apparently Kenst has some disorder that blocks pain. He doesn't feel it, nor does his body detect heat, or cold. He almost died from hypothermia one night in the arena, his face had turned a pale blue, but he got up the next morning as though it was a perfectly nice summer day.

The boy who came in second place had been from District 1 and he slashed at Kenst's face like butter before Kenst was able to throw him off, hence the magnitude of scars littering his face.

If I had to compete with somebody like Kenst I would be scared to death. I'm feeling fearful enough just being in the same room as him.

He does a head to toe examination of the two of us, and I try to blend in with the chair I'm sitting on. Frey just stares up at him with his big eyes.

"What are you lookin' at kid?" Kenst growls.

Frey ducks his head immediately and stares at his shoes.

"So, this is what I get this year; two tributes who look like they aren't even old enough to be here?"

I swallow the lump that's slowly forming in my throat and take an idea from Frey to stare at my shoes.

"I don't know why I'm forced to mentor this lousy district every year."

He walks over to the bar and pours himself a drink. He then continues to examine us, and I gnaw on the inside of my cheek.

"Pathetic," he finally says.

When he leaves the room I notice how hard my heart is pounding against my chest. I take a deep breath, and glance to Frey who is still staring adamantly at his shoes.

"Frey?"

He looks up slowly.

In a weak moment I consider letting him in on my plan to play dumb. Little Frey could be a good ally to have in order to gain some sort of sympathy from everyone. Plus he can help me fly under the radar.

I open my mouth to speak, but the words don't make it past my thoughts.

"We better get off this train," I say.

Maybe I'm not as manipulative as I thought I could be.

_Elise LaFrate District 6_

As I step off the train I'm immediately transported into a new world. Thousands of Capitolians cheer from either side of me. They are all dressed in top fashion trends and I feel suddenly drab in my Victorian styled dress. I wave to the masses and they yell louder.

Rusti is standing next to me, his eyes angled away from the masses of people surrounding us on either side.

I nudge him in the side and he gives me a death glare and backs away from me.

"Wave," I hiss.

District 6 has never been well renowned for how they compete at the games. I know that there is no way we'll get sponsors if Rusti clambers around looking like he's ready to take off running. He ignores me and slows down his walking until he's meandering behind with our mentor and escort.

_Great, now I'm going to have to pick up his slack. _

I flash the brightest smile I have, and am met with more cheers and a few whistles. I am lost in the moment of chaos when I'm grabbed from behind. I pull away instinctively and trip. I fall towards the crowd right into the arms of my captor. He reeks of alcohol.

"Well hello there," he says.

I try to pull out of his grasp but he grips me tighter. Without thinking, I do what I have been taught to do when you're in trouble. I force my knee upwards and as soon as I make contact he releases me while swearing wildly. He reaches for me again, and I duck away.

I barely notice the crowd growing in volume. They sound angry, and shocked. I feel a hand grab my arm and pull me away. I'm ready to go down swinging, but as I whip around I'm faced with my mentor. She places her hands on my shoulders and rushes me away into our building. When we're finally safe behind closed doors she begins to reprimand my behavior.

"You're going to have to be a little more careful out there," she says.

She doesn't bother asking if I'm okay, and ushers Rusti and I to the elevator.

"Chariot Rides are soon. I'll come and get you when it's time to see your stylist. Try to make a better impression tonight," she says her eyes looming on me.

It's hard to make a good impression when everyone around you is being a total asshole. I want to tell her this, but I don't want to cause any more trouble so soon.

**A/N: Sorry for the short chapter! I hope you all have a great week. Leave me a review please!**

**-Kayla**


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